


Kingdom Come

by bobbingformangos



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 15:43:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbingformangos/pseuds/bobbingformangos
Summary: Mafia!Boss/Queen Regina Mills received payment in the form of Emma Swan. How the unfortunate events of a lifetime of unhappy endings lead these two women together.





	1. A Mother Fucking Arm’s Race.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I am posting my stories back up on AO3. They're unfinished but have been requested over the years. I hope that you enjoy. I think it would take a lot of inspiration to come back and finish these stories due to not being in the fandom anymore (and, you know, getting married, starting a fam, those kinds of things) - but who knows, maybe one day. The wife and I have a tumblr where I sometimes write things (under the tag "ave wrote this") - the tumblr is called weforgottoeatthecake

**A Mother Fucking Arm’s Race.**

_Title: Kingdom Come_

_Category: TV Shows » Once Upon a Time_

_Author: bobbingformangos_

_Language: English, Rating: Rated: M_

_Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort_

 

**_Trigger Warning: Childhood abuse, sexual abuse, rape, and murder. This is a MAFIA inspired fic - there will be darkness._ **

 

_This is a gritty and somewhat raw story._

 

_I don't know how many chapters this will be or what direction it will go._

 

_read and please review if you have time._

 

_Got the mafia idea from hope2x_

 

_unedited._

 

 

**_THIS IS A REWRITE. PLEASE REREAD OR ELSE THINGS WONT MAKE SENSE. I HOPE THAT YOU ENJOY IT! FOLLOW MY TUMBLR FOR ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING THIS! No, but seriously, there are reasons why this is being rewritten which can be answered in the tag 'kingdom come series' on my tumblr. I'm sorry and I hope that this can live up to your expectations._ **

 

**_IIII_ **

 

**_Prologue_ **

 

 

When she was told that she would one day be the hero of her story, Emma Swan turned her head up to the clouds, clutched onto her stomach, and laughed. 

 

But even blonde angels had no control over their predetermined paths. 

 

And one day, Emma Swan would fuck up so much that she would land right in the center of it.

 

**_III_ **

 

She was once called the Savior. 

 

It was whispered to her in the darkness of a library by a man who still clutched onto the hope for someone’s heart was simply too dark. A fire was dimming in the background and a book was forgotten next to her. She had looked up at him, eyes scrunched together trying to figure out why this man was so desperate. 

 

But apparently he believed something others never even tried to believe in. 

 

Something she, herself, didn’t want to believe in. 

 

He believed that Emma was an angel - she had to be - and that only her light could take away the darkness of the one who’s heart had been blackened to coal. 

 

But the funny thing about hearts is that they weren’t scratch offs. Emma even said that, immediately the words flew out of her mouth as she rose her eyebrows and scuffed at the older man. 

 

You don’t just find a shiny quarter to scratch off the charred darkness that covered the red, beating organ. 

 

Even more, he was full of shit. 

 

Her had too much hope - even when hope should be the only thing that they should have. 

 

But Emma wasn't an angel and she was most definitely not filled with light. 

 

Emma Swan was no one’s Savior. 

 

The girl with a halo of golden curls around her head and eyes that looked like a bright green sea on the sunniest day held a darkness that nearly consumed her.

 

It was bright in her eyes as she clutched the metal in her hand - finger caressing the trigger as if to romance it to do her will all on it’s own. 

 

She wanted to, without hesitation, kill that man in front of her. 

 

Emma has always been protective of those few people who mean the world to her and apparently even the darkest of hearts could be loved by Emma. 

 

But more importantly, it was what she shared with that heart - the tiny little boy that curled against her chest in reminder of how he had once curled inside her abdomen. 

 

She started to add the slightest pressure to the trigger, remembering the sound of belly laughs and the feeling of morning kisses. 

 

This would be her choice, her twitch of muscles on the trigger that would put a life to an end. 

 

But she didn’t. 

 

She hesitated as she looked into the honey brown eyes of the man in front of her. A scowl on her face and sneer hiking up her lips, Emma Swan looked lethal. 

 

In that moment she was lethal. 

 

She couldn’t take a darkness out of a heart - no, no one could do that - but she could make sure that heart survives and lives on. She could make sure that they have a happiness with the small bundle, wiggling and whimpering, that they had rocked to sleep the night before. 

 

They were still probably sleeping - wrapped in childhood blankets in the middle of the bed blissfully away of her sacrifice. 

 

The metal of his gun pressed harsher against her forehead. In turn, the barrel of her gun pushed against his heart. 

 

The cold metal against her forehead was exhilarating. It reminder her why she was there, why she had to do this, why she had to protect them. 

 

“What’s it going to be, dearie?” There was still a tease in his tone but the sweat dripping from his brow betrayed the usual calm exterior. 

 

He knew it just as much as she did. 

 

It finally had to end. 

 

Her finger pressed the trigger at the same time a shot was fired into her chest. 

 

As they dropped to the floor - the perfect round hole between his eyes caused the girl to lazily smile through her haze. 

 

Maybe Emma Swan was the Savior after all. 

 

 

**_IIII_ **

 

**Part One.**

**A Mother Fucking Arm’s Race.**

 

Emma Swan was never a easy girl. 

 

She clawed and bit and gnashed her teeth at those who posed a threat - it’s what she learned as a kid and it wasn’t something that she was ready to give up. 

 

For nearly nineteen years - Emma has been taking care of herself and she wasn’t ready to hand over her autonomy to another person. 

 

She didn’t fucking trust other people. 

 

Emma was found off the side of the highway when she was a newborn, barely hours old with vernix still covering half of her body. Her parents were unknown to her – except for the fact that they didn't care enough to drop her off at a fucking firehouse or hospital. Instead, abandoning the little girl by a tree in the middle of bumfuck Maine was a better option.

 

Seriously, who the fuck did shit like that? 

 

Years later, a social worker said that it happened in the same spot to a baby boy four years before Emma was abandoned. 

 

That’s how she found out she had a brother. 

 

“Congrats! Your parents didn’t just hate you.” She had told herself once, fifteen and drunk in the back of a foster parent’s shed - hiding from a foster father. 

 

Sadly, someone had found her by the tree and the infant lived and Emma isn't quite sure if that was a good idea.

 

For years, the tiny girl grew up in the system – being sent along the east coast from home to home in hopes that one of the families would care about her enough to keep her.

 

One kept her for the first three years of her life before giving her up as if they were trading in their car for a new one.

 

Another hit her.

 

One couldn't keep their hands off her.

 

And one simply just didn't care the fuck about her.

 

As was most foster homes, it truly was a fucking epidemic and Emma was the illness.

 

For years the blonde with the tangled princess curls and bright eyes watched her childhood suffer a merciless murder by drug addicts, abusive fathers, and words that cut worse than knifes.

 

But she got used to it.

 

Emma Swan was strong - she held close to that just as much as she held close to the blanket that was wrapped around her body as an infant. 

 

One day she spoke up, just turning twelve and have been living with this family for nearly fifteen months. 

 

She really shouldn't have spoke up, right? 

 

They actually cared about her, treated her like she was precious, gave her her own room and stalked up on her favorite foods.

 

She could have handled a handsy foster dad, right?

 

No.

 

She couldn't do it anymore.

 

No when his prying got worse and worse in the deep blacks of the night and he tried to do things to her where the stars couldn’t keep her safe anymore. 

 

So she gave up a foster mother who seemed to love her enough for her own sanity. Except her foster mother didn't believe her - so could Emma really believe that she loved her? 

 

People loved differently, that’s what the blonde learned as she got bounce around more. 

 

She met Mary Margaret before her fifteenth birthday - the two girls put into the same foster home. Emma had a protective streak for the girl while the older girl felt the need to protect Emma’s mental health. 

 

They complimented each other in a way that Mary Margaret was day and Emma was night and they watched over each other like frightened mothers who’s babies were in constant danger. 

 

Emma Swan didn’t trust people - except those who became her family. 

 

Mary Margaret, who followed her from one foster home to another until they were thrust into Boston’s pretentious catholic home system. 

 

Emma had Mary Margaret to thank for that - unable to get into the exclusive foster home without the girl. 

 

It was there she met Belle French - a fiery girl with a passion for books. 

 

And then she met him, August, the baby that was abandoned in the same spot she was - he even had a similar blanket as her and in her morbid thinking, she wondered if he slept with it just like she slept with hers. 

 

Belle and August were technically out of the system - but apparently Mother Superior was just too good to the kids that they never wanted to leave. 

 

It wasn’t until a few months after Emma turned eighteen, a few months from graduation, that she understood exactly why August and Belle didn’t leave. 

 

Mary Margaret got a full scholarship from the parish to go study at a private university in Maine - sending Emma handwritten letters every other day - always trying to protect her mental health, even from a hundred miles away. 

 

But everyone else stayed with the nuns - not wanting to leave. 

 

Oh, those Nuns. 

 

Those fucking nuns. 

 

Mother Superior sat her down in the darken room - a large office at the back of Cathedral of Assumption. There was black ash on Emma’s forehead - the girl sitting straight in her chair and navy skirt slowly rising to expose milky thighs. 

 

The woman before her smirked - sinister as she licked her teeth causing Emma’s eyes to follow the action. Her hairline was exposed to reveal that she had dark chocolate brown hair under neath the rest of her habit. Her button down cardigan was unbuttoned enough to exposed milky skin to Emma’s eyes - there was a silver chain around Mother Superior’s neck with a bright blue stone dangling from it. 

 

It always caused Emma to wonder why the Mother would have such a thing exposed. 

 

“Emma,” the woman said leaning forward behind the mahogany desk, her voice amplified by the choir practicing in the sanctuary. Her penetrating voice caused Emma to mimic, leaning forward to hang onto her words. “You are such a strong, strong girl, Emma Swan.” 

 

Emma Swan was very strong. 

 

She was resilient after all - that’s what the nuns told her nowadays - very resilient. 

 

“Thank you, Mother,” Emma replied silverly. She knew exactly what was expected of her, Emma was good at that, playing the part. 

 

And boy did she play it good. 

 

The young Stavrophore nun threaded her fingers together over some white papers, eyes never leaving the young blonde’s as she gave her another secret smirk that intrigued the young blonde. 

 

“I think it’s finally time, Emma,” Mother Superior lowered her head and looked up at Emma - her tongue coming out to brush against her bottom lip. “You have proven to be such a lovely addition to our parish - always there to help out - and I believe that you would make a lovely member and contributor _deeper_ into our family. How would you like that, Emma? Being a more permeant member of our family?” 

 

Family. 

 

The word was taboo to people who have grown up in the foster system and it wasn’t until she met Mary Margaret, Belle, and August that she started to believe it was an option for her. 

 

And the way that Mother Superior said the word - honeyed and dripped from her tongue as if it was liquid gold - caused a spark to fly through Emma’s chest and hit it in the part of the head that she spent years trying to build walls around. 

 

Hope. 

 

It gave her hope. 

 

Emma sucked on her teeth as she regarded the older woman, took in her smokey and alluring eyes and felt herself scoot closer in her leather backed chair. Her voice was tentative as she asked, “Family?” 

 

And the grin broke out on the lead nun’s face, magnificent and proud. 

 

She knew that she had the blonde. 

 

Sweetly, she nodded her head, “Yes, my child, family.” 

 

-

 

The air was chilled when it blew against her exposed legs. She was wearing her navy skirt, white polo, and navy cardigan with Assumption’s logo placed on the left side above her heart. 

 

Her hair glowed bright golden in the sun, wild curls framing her face as she turned her head and smirked at August, bright eyes flashing to meet his through his aviators. 

 

He sucked his teeth and unzipped his leather jacket as she handed over the khaki colored leather duffle to Emma. 

 

The bag weighed more than it should - probably metaphoric - when she shouldered the back and adjusted her headphones. 

 

Her heart raced as the music became louder. 

 

Her back straight and she walked as if she was being held up by the feeling of power coursing through her blood. 

 

She felt on top of the world - feeling apart of a family, of something more than herself. 

 

Oh yes, Emma Swan had hope as bright as the sun. 

 

As she walked into the large building with dark windows, Emma Swan knew she made the best decision. 

 

Even though she was now pretty sure she had just joined the a family that resembled closely to the mafia.

 

But family trumps sketchy situations and August was right next to her as they went into the elevator, guns weighing heavier and heavier in the bag as the elevator descended deeper into the building.  

 

-

 

It was her first time. 

 

August thrusted her forward into the room, the leather bag slung over her shoulder and fists clutching the strap against her chest, as August left to rush to the room next to hers. 

 

In all honesty, he should have fucking known the signs. 

 

This was a set up. 

 

A trade off. 

 

An answer to Mother Superior’s problems. 

 

And a fucking debt paid. 

 

The door closed tightly behind August once he left the room and no one heard Emma’s screams. 

 

-

 

"Finally, an unused whore to rip up," He bent down close to her face, her heart beating and her mind screaming for help. She could smell the musky cologne on his lapel and it made her want to vomit.  "I bet you'll like that…”

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

 

She was supposed to take this through the doors, set the bag on the long table in room 108, and then meet August in the lobby. 

 

They promised it was that simple. 

 

Mother Superior said it would be easy - since it was her first time. 

 

“No chance at hiccups,” the older woman said with a smirk and a honeyed voice. 

 

Her words were too sweet and Emma ate them up too quickly and now she was on the floor, back against the wall as she tried to tuck as much of her body around herself. 

 

Self preservation or some kind of shit. 

 

There are moments in life that truly fuck you up, Emma has been through enough of them.

 

The man above her was a short man, all facial hair and stocky body that was wrapped in a black coat and had on black pants. There was a black gun in the front of his pants and the red apple on the grip frame was bright against the darkness of his monochromic clothes. 

 

He crouched down, legs wide and Emma’s face scrunched up at the bulge in his tight pants - vomit raising to the back of her throat and she actually considered throwing up on him. 

 

He would probably enjoy that kind of thing, though, judging how much he was getting off by her fear.

 

But there are also moments that you simply couldn't help but be thankful for.

 

The door flew open, banging loudly against the wall.

 

He quickly stood up, turning his head to see who was at the door.

 

Emma saw her moment as she shot up, quickly, from the floor with her fist aiming for the visible bulge in his pants causing the man to double over. 

 

The blonde tried to run toward the door off to the back of the large room - praying that it wasn’t a closet - but strong hands stopped her and gunshots rang throughout the room.  

 

Panicking, Emma scrunched her eyes closed and pushed at the body that held her. 

 

She wasn’t in pain, so that meant something. 

 

But tears escaped her eyes.

 

She couldn't breathe.

 

Have you heard of the saying, "being in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

 

Emma once believed that everything happens for a reason. She was going through a fairy tale phase that kept her alive for years in the system and that was only growing strong in belief by the life she was living with the nuns and her family. 

 

"Just do her in," the deep male voice said behind Emma causing the young girl to whip her head around, blonde curls hitting the man in the face who was clutching her arm. She met his dark eyes – noticing he was small and slightly twitchy causing her to want to gnash her teeth at his slippery demeanor. "We'll tell the Queen that no one was here. No one will know."

 

The man holding her shook his head, pressing his lips together, "It would be known, Sid, the Queen knows everything that goes on. Plus, you know the rules. Don't kill without a good reason or that kind of bullshit."

 

He cocked an eyebrow down at Emma, snorting, "Even though it is cheap pussy.”

 

Emma frowned at him, lifting a foot to stomp on his in anger but he quickly took a step back and pulled her off balanced. She noticed the hook on the man’s other arm, replacing the space where his hand should be. 

 

Her heart was erratic and she was sure the electric activity was going haywire in the organ. 

 

He looked down at her with amusement. 

 

What was with all these fuckers getting pleasure from her fear? 

 

His voice, thick with irish accent as he announced, “Besides, the Queen is expecting her. This sweet piece of arse is the payment from the Blue Fairy - apparently untouched goods.” 

 

Blue Fairy?

 

Payment?

 

Emma’s heart sank, plummeting against the floor. 

 

She wasn’t a stupid girl. 

 

She was strong, remember? 

 

It was all a set up. 

 

Family?

 

Family was shit and not for girl’s like Emma. 

 

Her breathing became shallow and fast and it was starting to become hard to stand up. 

 

She was nothing - only a form of payment. 

 

Something to be used by her family. 

 

Emma Swan was nothing. 


	2. The Hearted Queen

**The Hearted Queen**

 

 

**_Trigger Warning: Childhood abuse, sexual abuse, rape, and murder. This is a MAFIA inspired fic - there will be darkness._ **

 

_unedited._

 

**_THIS IS A REWRITE. PLEASE REREAD BEGINNING CHAPTERS OR ELSE THINGS WILL NOT MAKE SENSE. I HOPE THAT YOU ENJOY IT! FOLLOW MY TUMBLR FOR ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING THIS!_ **

 

**_IIII_ **

 

**_PART TWO_ **

**_The Hearted Queen_ **

 

 

When Emma was a kid - while leaving on the outskirts of Boston with a Russian foster mom and five other children - she used to watch Lilo and Stitch on repeat. 

 

She had that kind of control, being the youngest for the first time out of all the other kids and the only one who caught onto the harsh but beautiful language, Emma knew how to get her foster mother to turn the movie on over and over again when everyone else’s requests were denied. 

 

They talked about Ohana a lot, as if everyone had one. 

 

Ohana means family. 

 

And family was life. 

 

Family was what was instilled in the minds of children and it became a fairy tale to the children without one. 

 

She would watch and watch over and over - this little girl with hopes and dreams and a different type of family like Emma and the movie gave Emma hope. 

 

She wasn’t allowed hope after that - finding it a luxury too expensive for her to actually afford. 

 

Not worth the payment that went along with it. 

 

So one day, when she was taken from the home - in a fit the little girl with dirty curls and a tattered dress tried to grab the video from the VCR. 

 

To grasp onto the hope that it held, to take it with her to another home, but only to pull the tape out of the video when she tried to yank the tape out of the machine. 

 

Yeah, hope truly wasn’t worth the crushing of her heart in that moment.

She was pissed at herself for trying to grasp that hope again. 

 

She was kicking herself for being such a naive cunt. 

 

Who would believe a sinister smile and pretty words? 

 

It made sense, now. 

 

Why Mother Superior wore the blue stone against her chest instead of the crucifix - the fucking blue fairy - why she was so intent on Emma joining their family. 

 

She wrapped up the job in a wrapping of silky words and tied it off with the promise of a close knit family that would always love and care for Emma. 

 

She groomed Emma for this moment - over the last few years. 

 

That’s why she was welcomed into the exclusive home. 

 

Why any of them was welcomed. 

 

They had things to offer. 

 

Mother Superior was their god. 

 

August and Belle were disciples - offering skills and knowledge. 

 

Mary Margaret was sent away to be taught things that will better the family. 

 

And Emma…

 

Well Emma Swan was the sacrificial lamb. 

 

**_III_ **

 

She felt dirty in her uniform despite how pristine it was - pressed, smelt like eucalyptus, and perfectly fitted to her body. 

 

But Emma felt dirty - in need of a scalding hot shower and to burn the pieces of cloth. Though, she was pretty sure by the way that the hook handed irish man was clutching her arm - she probably would just end up dead by the time the sun went down over the horizon. 

 

It could even be poetic - her being brutally murdered as the sun goes down. 

 

She was always a moon and stars girl anyway. 

 

Emma was pushed into the room - lit by hues of the sunset. 

 

Well, poetic indeed by how the entire room was made from glass and overlooking Boston. 

 

The man clutched her arm once more, dragging her along as they made their way deeper inside what appeared to be a large office. 

 

It smelt like black currants and vanilla - the sweet smell making Emma fell dizzy. 

 

“It’s done,” the irish man said, a light playfulness in his voice that frightened the young girl. She remembered the gun at tucked into the back of his pants and the man who laid on the floor with a bullet in his head. 

 

Could people really be this calm after shooting somebody? 

 

Sidney, the dark skinned man in a well tailored designer suit, came to stop next to the irishman, keeping Emma’s eyes off the person who was in front of them. 

 

The anticipation of seeing this person - this person who essentially was going to be paid with Emma’s blood - was eating away at Emma causing a nervous feeling to settle in her stomach. 

 

She kind of didn’t want to meet this ruler, this kingpin who was in control of a whole part of the world that Emma had no idea about. 

 

She was supposed to have a family and, apparently in this world, that didn’t mean anything. 

 

“We had to shoot Leroy, the tracker,” Sidney threw out the words nonchalantly, as if the death of another didn’t matter to him one way or another. “He threatened your payment.” 

 

Emma was nothing. 

 

Just a payment for an unknown debt. 

 

She wondered if the debt was worth her life.

 

Then again - what was she worth anyway? 

 

“Hmm,” hummed the voice in front of the men - the silverly sound crawling up Emma’s skin. 

 

Then Sidney moved and the irish man pushed her forward - forcing Emma to spread her arms out so that she could regain her balance without toppling onto the floor. 

 

And that’s when Emma’s breath was stolen from her body - the young woman feeling as if her heart was being squeezed and all of her blood being rushed out of the caves and caverns within the large muscular organ. 

 

Behind the large glass desk, illuminated by the sun set, sat the most gorgeous woman. 

 

She leaned forward on the glass desk, arms crossed and causing her breasts to push up in the black dress, her whiskey hued eyes looking over the blonde with her red lips pressed together and tongue in cheek. 

 

“What do you want us to do with her, my Queen?” Sidney asked - he seemed all too eager to please the woman in front of them and Emma couldn’t help but let her eyes nervously look over her. 

 

She was a Queen? 

 

To whom?

 

Emma was scared to find out, heart beating up in her throat due to a combination of fear and possibly a slight feeling of arousal. 

 

For a moment, the woman’s - the Queen’s - eyes found hers and Emma quickly straightened her body and controlled her face. Her chest heaved up and down, pushing against the buttons of the polo shirt she wore - but she kept the dark, hidden eyes of the woman behind the desk. 

 

The whiskey colored eyes were intoxicating, alluring, but seemed to cut at Emma’s skin as they flicked away to trail down her body once more before quickly jumping up to find Emma’s. 

 

Emma was trying to figure out if she wasn’t breathing because she was scared or because of the power this woman possessed. 

 

“I see,” her voice was honey and husk - power filled and dripping with indifference - eyes never leaving Emma’s. The woman lifted a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ears. “I’ll take it from here, boys, you may leave.” 

 

Sidney hesitated while the irishman quickly turned around, throwing a wink at the woman that Emma didn’t see, and both men walked out of the door. 

 

Emma could hear the booming click of a lock following them. 

 

For a moment, it was the loudest sound that Emma had ever heard. 

 

The woman smirked at her, leaning back in her chair before openly taken in the young girl in front of her. She looked hungry and Emma looked awfully tasty. 

 

Emma swallowed, she was going to die. 

 

In what way - she wasn’t sure - but she was going to fucking die. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck! 

 

Emma ran a hand through her blonde curls, getting it caught and tangled for a moment before pulling it away and bringing it down to rub against the pleats of her skirt. Her eyes shifted nervously, finding it hard to bring her gaze back at the woman and her hungry look. 

 

“Name?” The Queen asked, voice soft as she rose from her leather chair and walked around the desk to settle in front of it. Her hands found the edge of the glass as she pressed her ass against it and lifted herself up so that she sat down. Legs crossing and Emma’s eyes immediately finding the exposed olive skin of the top of the woman’s thigh. 

 

“The blue fairy didn’t say she was sending someone so quiet,” The woman pressed, hiking an eyebrow. Her voice coaxing Emma to lift her eyes and meet her’s once more. 

 

Emma sucked in a breath, trying to calm her breathing. 

 

This was quiet a battle - one she was too exhausted to fight. 

 

Fear. 

 

Arousal. 

 

Disappointment. 

 

Conflicting emotions filling her body causing a whirlwind to settle in the middle of her chest. 

 

But the challenge in the Queen’s voice encouraged the blonde to step forward and hold her head up - fighting away the anxiety that was eating her alive. 

 

“Emma Swan,” Emma said clearly, meeting the dark haired woman’s eyes in challenge. 

 

A smirk curled onto the woman’s lips as she uncrossed her legs, thighs pressing together and Emma had to bite her lip to keep herself from looking down. The nearly nineteen year old fighting the urge to take another step forward. 

 

It was a new feeling, overwhelming really, for the green eyed girl - attraction - and the feeling was easily masking the fear that settled in her heart. 

 

This women was undoubtedly lethal. 

 

It made Emma question to what extent and exactly how. 

 

Because, at this moment, the blonde wouldn’t mind coming undone if this woman was the cause of it. 

 

She couldn’t help herself, eyes trailing down over the painted red lips, the long and inviting neck, the swell of her breasts pressing against the fabric, and then to the olive tone skin of her thighs. 

 

Her dress had risen up more. 

 

And Emma’s eyes quickly landed on the black gun that was tucked into the holster strapped to the woman’s thigh. 

 

Well fuck. 

 

This woman was most definitely lethal. 

 

And Emma Swan was most definitely aroused - a pool of slick wetness coating her black panties. 

 

“And how old are you, Miss Swan? Nineteen? Twenty?” The woman asked before dipping her eyes down to take in Emma’s clothing before letting her lips curl up in a grin and she rose her eyebrows, teasing the blonde, “And I can see the Blue Fairy still enjoy’s dressing all of her girls like little catholic school girls. Tell me, did the Blue Fairy already break you in?” 

 

Emma’s eyes widened at the question - quickly shaking her head in the negative. “What?” She asked, stumbling on the words and suddenly self conscious of her school uniform. “No, it’s my uniform. I had classes this morning.” 

 

The woman stopped before chuckling, the sound quickly cutting away Emma’s worry and inviting her to talk another step closer. 

 

“Oh, then she did honor our deal,” The woman said, jumping off of her desk and adjusting her dress. “What makes you so special that she sent you to me?” 

 

Emma bit her lip, not knowing how to answer that question. 

 

She didn’t know she was being sent anywhere. 

 

She was told that she was strong. 

 

That she would have a family. 

 

That she would be loved. 

 

And then she was abandoned. 

 

Fed to the wolves. 

 

The Queen paused in front of her and Emma caught her scent, the black currants and vanilla, hitting her in the face as she became overwhelmed once again. Her face fell and mouth settled in a straight line as her teeth stopped nervously biting. 

 

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” The Queen’s voice was softer, catching Emma off guard. 

 

Emma shook her head in the negative. 

 

The Queen walked closer, stepping into Emma’s space before brining up a perfectly manicured finger and lifting Emma’s chin so that the young girl would meet her eyes. “And what did she tell you?” 

 

Emma sighed, shifting her eyes to look past the Queen to look at the sun disappearing and leaving a trail of pinks and purples in it’s wake. It was beautiful. 

 

The Queen tapped her jaw, grabbing her attention once more as she waited for Emma to answer. 

 

“That I would have a family there if I started to help with the business,” Emma whispered, chewing on the bottom corner of her lip as she kept her eyes on the Queen’s dark ones. “My brother was showing me how to drop off the bag today. He told me to take them into the room while he went into the other.” 

 

The Queen furrowed her eyebrows, brows knitting together in trying to understand, the hurt in Emma’s voice was evident. “He set you up?” 

 

Emma’s face fell and eyes widened again - her mouth opened as a breath was released audibly. 

 

The Queen received her answer. 

 

“This changes things,” she muttered, finger still caressing the soft skin of the young girl. The girl who could hold herself up, accept the challenge that the Queen threw at her - but who was also like glass, fragil. 

 

It was an interesting combination - one that intrigued the woman as she enjoyed the feeling of the warm skin under the pad of her finger. 

 

She licked her teeth, eyes shifting to study Emma’s face before returning her eyes back to the sad green ones. A smile, small, tugged at her lips in an attempt to try to comfort the young girl. 

 

The queen thought quickly - trying to rearrange her plans for this girl. 

 

She expected a pet. 

 

Someone she could use as she wished - one like her mother kept for years, taking her from the same supplier that the Queen received Emma. 

 

Except, it was all supposed to be consensual. 

 

All the girl’s choice. 

 

The Blue Fairy would be paid a visit very soon about her forms of payment - and her treatment with the young girl. 

 

There was something about her - something that pulled at the queen in ways that scared the living shit out of her - and her mind quickly went over the options. 

 

She wanted to keep her - there was something inside the queen, inside the darkened heart, that demanded her to keep her and even, protect her.  

 

“Well, dear,” the Queen started - a possessive streak crawling up her body to her heart, poisoning it with a need that she found hard to fight. “How about we take you to get cleaned up and we can talk more?” 

 

There was suggestions in her voice, a sweetness that dripped with a honey that Emma found all too appealing. 

 

Emma’s teeth worked harder as she took a deep breath. Her voice was smaller than before, drenched with the overwhelming feelings waring within her body. “Are you going to kill me?” 

 

There was something about the blonde - something more than the Queen has seen in anybody else and she needed it. 

 

The girl’s want for family. 

 

The wild streak that seemed to be somewhere inside the blonde. 

 

A resilience that leaked through the walls that were built. 

 

Yes, she wanted this girl. 

 

To protect or to have? 

 

She wasn’t sure which one but she did know how to answer this question. 

 

It became too easy as the words slipped out of her lips. 

 

“Oh no, my dear, quite the opposite,” The Queen said, stepping closer and pressing her body against the young woman’s. Emma’s gasp for breath caused the darken heart inside her body to flutter and she slide her hands down to grasp Emma’s hips. She leaned in - lips moments away from Emma’s and breath kissing Emma’s nose - before whispering into Emma’s face, “I want to keep you.” 

 

**III**


	3. Shelter

**Shelter**

 

 

 **Trigger Warning:** **Childhood abuse, sexual abuse, rape, and murder. This is a MAFIA inspired fic - there will be darkness.**

 

 

**unedited.**

 

 

**THIS IS A REWRITE. PLEASE REREAD BEGINNING CHAPTERS OR ELSE THINGS WILL NOT MAKE SENSE. THERE WILL BE SIMILARITIES I HOPE THAT YOU ENJOY IT! FOLLOW MY TUMBLR FOR ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING THIS! PLEASE REFER TO THE “KINGDOM COME SERIES” TAG ON MY TUMBLR FOR THE EXPLANATION. I PROMISE I DIDN’T DO THIS JUST ON A WHIM.**

 

**[UNEDITED]**

 

**IIII**

 

 

**PART THREE**

**Shelter**

 

 

There was a family Emma lived with when she was ten that were devote christians. 

 

They cared heavily for the young blonde - dressing her in Sunday’s best and sending her off to a small, private christian school where she was indoctrinated in their beliefs. 

 

Her curls and cowlick was pushed back from her face with a pink bowl and her legs covered with tights - Emma was often fascinated with how the pink dress spun in the sun lit courtyard at school. 

 

They had doted on her for those four months. 

 

They had welcomed her into their home and read her stories of the many trails of Christ as if she, herself, had been through her own series of trails. 

 

At church - every Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday - her foster father, a pastor, would stand up at the podium with sweat on his brow and preach about how we suffer and that if we were saved, then we would find our way through christ. 

He would look at Emma, with her bright swirling green eyes, and say that if we were saved then we could have our happy endings. 

 

She didn’t think much about the sins he committed that he blamed on her. 

 

It was her fault, she thought. 

 

_You must sacrifice, Emma, for your sin._

 

_Don’t you want to be saved, Emma?_

 

It wasn’t like she meant to say that she didn’t believe out loud when it was finally her time to be saved. 

 

It wasn’t like she really understood how this game was supposed to be played. 

 

She was fucking ten and a child who was thrust into the world with the understanding that punishment and abuse was all there is - so how could she believe that she deserved any of it? How could she believe that some higher power who controlled everything destined her to a life of hell? 

 

_Spar the rod, spoil the child._

 

That was the first time that Emma ended up in the hospital, but not the first time that she was taken from a set of parents with questionable methods. 

 

Not the first time she had been sacrificed for the good of others. 

 

But definitely the first time that her heart broke to the point of disrepair. 

 

She knew that she would always be this - the lamb waiting to be slaughtered to save another - and she would never understand how she fools herself into believing that just maybe her stars would change. 

 

Maybe she didn’t want to be destined to be Jesus - maybe she wanted to be free without anything pushing her onto the paved path. 

 

-

 

The moments ticked by. 

 

Emma was surrounded by the unique smell of the woman in front of her as Regina’s arms tightened and the word “keep” echoed in the blonde’s head. 

 

No one wanted to keep her.

 

Not for her own good, that is. 

 

So, Emma paused her breathing as she let Regina’s words wash over her and she let her body feel the way that this woman pressed against her. It was new - this feeling that was pooling into her pants and how her skin prickled at the feeling of Regina so close to her. 

 

Relief flooded through her in the exact moment that the arousal came back, licking at her in the way that it made Regina’s words that much more thick and easy to accept. 

 

Except, being kept wasn’t a choice, was it? 

 

It was surprising, the gentleness of the action, when Regina closed the space between them two - her nails digging into Emma’s skirt to leave indentions on her hips - before pressing her lips gingerly against the tip of Emma’s nose. 

 

A shiver ran through Emma’s body and her hands shot up to grasp Regina’s side and a small chuckle escaped the wall that Regina held in place at all times causing the shiver to extend itself. 

 

Regina pulled back, meeting Emma’s eyes, smoothing over the free curve of her lips with a honeyed smirk. 

 

The dark haired woman slowly slide back, letting her hands fall from Emma’s hips so that they could slide onto Emma’s arms, falling it down to were Emma’s hands grasped her side. She caressed the skin with her thumb, allowing herself this gentleness with the girl - understanding the desire for things that wasn’t meant to you just a little bit - before she pushed her hands away and turned away from the blonde to go to her desk. 

 

“Daddy,” Regina said after she picked up the sleek, white iPhone and brought it to her ear. “There is a girl here, Emma Swan, that I want you to show to my room, please. She will be staying with us for a while.” 

 

Emma took a step closer to the desk, feeling the magnetic pull toward the woman, needing to be closer - but also intrigued by the tone that she used towards her father. One of both power and gentleness with a hint of childish need to please - well mannered and respectful. 

 

Regina lowered the phone, coming back around and settling herself on the desk once more. As an older man with a balding head walked into the office. He had a gentle smile and calm demeanor as he smiled at his daughter, a love in his eyes that Emma herself didn’t quite understand.

 

He smoothed down his suit in a similar way that his daughter smoothed down her dress that caused the tightness in Emma’s chest slowly calm. 

 

“Henry,” The man offered, voice laced with a softness that made Emma’s entire being become still - as if it was laced with some kind of tranquilizer. He reached a hand out to her, a gentle smile on his face, giving her time to choose if she would like to take it or not. 

 

Emma reached forward, letting her hand fall into his as he brought his other hand up to tap her’s reassuringly. 

 

“I’ll be up once you get clean,” Regina addressed Emma, once again gaining all of her attention with the husk that flooded her voice with power and something Emma couldn’t yet touch. “I look forward to talking with you, Emma.” 

 

The mask was back in place, needing to exert the power that she had easily lost when she was so close to the young girl. Emma let her eyes shift, looking at the way that Regina lifted her chin and licked her lips, easily confusing the blonde and making Emma feel off balanced.

 

So she nodded her head and turned back toward Henry - letting the older man lead her toward the door.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

 

Regina made her feel so very off balanced. 

 

As Emma’s foot crossed the threshold, the queen called after her, “I think you will appreciate the offer I have for you, Emma.” 

 

Emma knew that she had seen a part of the woman in front of her that others were never offered. 

 

Emma didn’t know if the churning of her stomach was because that thought excited her or that she found it terrifying. 

 

Absolutely terrifying. 

 

**IIIII**

 

Emma plays this game. 

 

It’s been her favorite since she was five and understood that when new babies come - it meant that you were going to be replaced. 

 

They liked the younger ones more than the older ones and that was a lesson Emma learned very quickly after the Swans gave her up. 

 

The rules of the game is to make believe certain things didn’t happen or if you walked a different path and let your imagination take over. 

 

Where would she be right now? 

 

Emma wonders, a lot of times, what would have happened if her parents never left her wrapped in her blanket by a tree in the middle of the woods. 

 

What if it was a young couple with bright smiles who took her for her first hike instead or a headstrong single mother who loved the outdoors and raised Emma in the great wild or what if her dad had kept her and he was a charming man with a gentle smile?

 

Emma imagined a childhood filled with laughter and dancing and the sun so bright that it lit her entire path down the road of life. 

 

Or, something more simple, what happened if she didn’t accept Mother Superior’s - the blue fairy - offer. 

 

What if she continued and finished school - found Mary Margaret and ignored the need to known the one person she shared blood with? 

 

Mary Margaret loved her and would have kept her safe, wouldn’t she?

 

Or did she know about the business also? 

 

No, she couldn’t have been. 

 

Emma wondered what kind of life they could have had. 

 

Would she had gone to the same school as Mary Margaret in the tiny Maine town? Would they have shared a house until the other girl found her own happy ending? 

 

Would Emma have found her happy ending? 

 

Was there happy endings for girl’s like Emma? 

 

Would she be the same Emma as she was now if anything had changed in her life?

 

No, she would be a little different. 

 

Which was probably a good thing. 

 

But playing this game often made making future choices harder - often set her on the path to choose what she would believe would be the best outcome but often was blinded to the warning signs along the path. 

 

The burning hot water continued to rain against her skin from a shower head that was much too fancy for the blonde - it rinsed off all the years of sadness and tragedy and Emma wanted to believe that it left her blank and bruised. 

 

Sort of a new beginning where she wasn’t plagued by this game that she played so often. 

 

The steam rose all around the blonde, keeping her warm and comfortable in a shower that was oversized and made of cool, heated stone. 

 

She needed this. 

 

The hot water. 

 

To be sterilized and washed of all her sins.  

 

Emma thought of the pastor and his wife and how they told her that baptism would be life washing away all of your past. 

 

But fuck their baptism because she was convinced that this was much, much better. 

 

The scalding heat from the shower made her feel clean, less dirty and less used. 

 

Emma needed to be her old innocent self. 

 

She needed a spark. 

 

A hope that she had once had as a tiny child with bright swirling eyes. 

 

She needed to believe, at this in this moment, that there were fairy tales and happy endings. 

 

She refused to leave the shower but after an hour, there was no denying that her skin was turning pruny and sensitive. 

 

Emma stepped out of the shower, hissing when her feet hit the cold tile instead of the warm plush rug in front of the door. She quickly reached forward to grasp the purple robe hanging across from the shower, plush and soft, that she quickly wrapped around her body. Emma let out a loud moan of comfort that the material provided. 

 

She stood there for a moment, letting the water drip from her curls and her body acclimate to the change in temperature. She caught her reelection in the large mirror behind the sink - her milky skin a bright red from the flush of blood. 

 

This was a simple pleasure that even the convent didn’t offer - quick lukewarm showers in the name of Jesus and his sacrifices. 

 

In actuality, it as a simple pleasure that she hasn’t had since she was a child plopped into a Mr. Bubble bubble bath. 

 

Emma walked to the double sinks noticing the small but important detail of a toothbrush still init’s packaging, toothpaste, a brush, and lotion sitting on a purple hand towel next to the sink. 

 

Grateful, Emma went to work at brushing her teeth and working out the knots in her hair before wrapping her arms around her torso and stepping into the large and plush bedroom. 

 

Emma paused, toes digging into the lush material of the carpet that sat on the dark hardwood floor. Wiggling her toes, Emma let her fingers play with the material of her robe as she stood there. 

 

Regina was sitting on the edge of the bed - legs crossed and arms behind her to hold up her body. 

 

“Oh!” Emma yelped, surprised, as she dug her toes deeper into the carpet. She quickly clutched onto the material of the robe and closed her mouth. She was suddenly self conscious of the ruby red tent to her skin from the hot shower. 

 

Regina curled up half of her mouth in a crooked grin as she let her eyes fall up and down the blonde - eyes taking notice how long the blonde’s legs actually were despite having a pretty decent view when Emma wore the school skirt. 

 

Regina didn’t move from her spot - just openly watched the blonde without shame or embarrassment. Her tongue was in her cheek as she took the young blonde completely in - as if she was assessing something she had just bought instead of a young woman who was tricked into being there. 

 

“Thanks for the…well…um…shower,” Emma’s voice barely hit above a shaky whisper as the day settled on her shoulders. 

 

Emma was already fucking tired. 

 

And the way the shower left her reminded her exactly why she was here, or the confusion of why she was here. 

 

A smile curled onto Regina’s lips as she rose onto her feet, pushing up from the bed, and stood in front of the bed. She waited, for a moment, looking at Emma expectedly. 

 

And like a magnet, Emma took the few steps forward to come closer to Regina. The drops of water cascading down the blonde’s neck was illuminated by the setting sun outside the window. 

 

Regina smiled inwardly at this small action, enjoying the power she had already held over the young girl. 

 

It kind of made her sick - the pleasure she took in the power she held. It also frightened her because the blonde herself was holding her own amount of power over her and it was only so long before Emma realized it. Then she could use it against her, Regina was sure. 

 

No. 

 

No thinking like that. 

 

Instead, she noticed the twitches in Emma’s muscles and the way the blonde’s toes curled and uncurled into the carpet. Regina’s smirk died down a small bit into a thin smile as she took a step away from the bed to come in front of Emma. 

 

She was radiating warmth and Regina couldn’t help but reach a hand out, close to Emma’s face and let it hover there. 

 

She noticed how Emma leaned back on her foot, away from her and untrusting, and quickly lowered her hand. 

 

Regina may be lethal, but she knew when someone felt uncomfortable. 

 

And that wasn’t a feeling she wanted the blonde to feel - not from her (or anyone). 

 

“Did you have a good shower?” Regina asked, breaking the tension. 

 

Emma nodded her head, blonde wet curls coming to settle against her cheek. 

 

She glanced her eyes away from Regina, finding the woman too much to look at, before settling her eyes on the large bed behind the woman. 

 

This was probably why she was here. 

 

The feeling sunk low into her stomach and battled with the arousal that was tingling in her clit. 

 

Bittersweet, wasn’t it, to be offered a goddess but unable to be the one to truly make a choice. 

 

Was there even a choice?

 

The blonde was afraid to meet Regina’s dark whiskey eyes. There wasn’t any emotion in them, none really that the woman had openly shared anyway, and that was scary to Emma. People who refused to share emotions were scary - Emma knew, she didn’t enjoy sharing either. 

 

Emma glanced over Regina once more before shifting her eyes back to the bed - she prided herself on reading people and this woman was a mystery. 

 

A paradox really - all hot and cold with nothing in between. 

 

Emma started to shift nervously from foot to foot, mumbling with a voice that held much more confidence than she felt, “So, you mentioned pet earlier? Does that mean I have to -“

 

It was fucking embarrassing.

 

More so than any other moment in her life.

 

Sucking in a breath, Emma raised her head and gave her a tired smile.

 

Her body had been used before without her consent, at least this time she would know beforehand and it was someone she could tolerate. 

 

If she was agreeable, she could stay alive. 

 

But even know, she was starting to question if that meant anything. 

 

“You’re not here for that,” Regina’s voice was quick, trying to sooth over the worries in the blonde’s head and it was this moment that her hovering hand gently caressed Emma’s cheek. 

 

It immediately soothed the blonde and even encouraged her to let her eyelids droop for a moment before quickly opening to meet the whiskey brown eyes of the olive toned woman before her. 

 

Emma swallowed nervously, still completely confused by everything that was transpiring but welcoming the calming touch. 

 

She can’t remember when someone had touched her with such care without wanting something in return. 

 

Did Regina want something in return? 

 

Emma was finding it hard to tell, to read the moment, to believe the things that she was reading. 

 

Regina let her hand slide across Emma’s jaw, down the curve of Emma’s neck and back to the small hairs on the back of her neck. The older woman’s fingers immediately laced into the wet locks of Emma’s hair and scratched at her scalp enjoying the way that Emma took a step closer.

 

Emma’s breath hitched and her head tilted as Regina’s fingers scratched over her scalp, tousling her hair in the process. Regina’s hand had been warm and soft and Emma inhaled the woman’s scent. 

 

She could get used to it - to Regina. 

 

If it came to her needing that. 

 

Emma tried to blink away the haze, but she couldn’t pry her eyes from Regina’s. Words escaped her lips, “What am I here for then?” 

 

Emma’s words were curious and challenging and held their own power, even if Emma herself didn’t understand that. 

 

She was strong. 

 

Resilient. 

 

And that was something that endeared her to Regina. 

 

“Well, dear, that is all up to you,” Regina answered with a silvery voice - bringing her other hand up to tangle in Emma’s curls and taking another step closer. They were only moments apart and the heat from the young woman’s body radiated and licked at the exposed skin of Regina’s. It was an exciting sensation that Regina enjoyed despite the importance of the moment. 

 

Emma blinked. 

 

Surprised. 

 

She was taken back by the woman’s words, skeptical even, at the thought that she would possibly have a choice in the way this path would continue. 

 

The blonde knew that choices were often not really put in her hands and she was scared what this woman was capable of. 

 

Didn’t Mother Superior give her a choice also? 

 

Didn’t she make it look appetizing and delicious enough for the blonde to completely agree?

 

Wasn’t Emma sacrificed in the end?

 

Wasn’t that all Emma was?

 

A sacrifice?

 

What made Regina so much different from everyone else?

 

Why was Emma still here? In this plush room with the goddess in front of her, touching her, soothing her? 

 

Wasn’t Emma the price that was supposed to be paid to Regina? 

 

The pet that The Blue Fairy owed? 

 

That meant something. 

 

Emma had obviously watched enough films to know that her role in this story was to either end in blood or sex - possibly both depending on how much power the woman touching her had. 

 

And Emma was taking a small guess that if she was being called “Queen” - Regina had a lot of fucking power. 

 

Regina chuckled softly at Emma’s bewildered look, a soft and gruntal sound that caught Emma’s attention and created a fluttering in her stomach. 

 

Emma’s eyebrows furrowed, fingers curling into her robe as she bit her lip. On of Regina’s hands came forward to tug a stray curl behind her ear before going back to thread in the thick blonde locks. 

 

Regina recognized the vulnerability pushing against the wall behind Emma’s eyes - this girl obvious had perfected her own walls and probably made them just as strong as Regina has made her own. 

 

It was the moment. 

 

“What would you like, Emma?” Regina asked, eyes shifting to look deeper into the sea green eyes in front of her. Her left foot took a step forward between Emma’s parted legs and she moved her body so that they were pressed together. 

 

They fit. 

 

Their bodies molding together as they had in Regina’s office. 

 

Regina could feel the minty warm breath on her cheek as she waited for Emma’s slow response. 

 

Emma felt her stomach churning and curling and she choked on the words lodged in her throat. 

 

She knew exactly what she wanted - what had gotten her into this situation in the first place. She knew what had been used against her and she didn't want to say it aloud. 

 

Emma didn’t want to hope. 

 

She couldn’t hope. 

 

Hope only ended in disappointment and a want to die and Emma didn’t want that at all. 

 

“Emma,” Regina purred into her face, breath kissing her intimately as she stood closer - pressed closer - feeling the magnet within each of the women attract to the other. Her honeyed voice rang through Emma’s body, “What do you want? A family? Someone who cares for you, who takes care of you? What do you want?” 

 

She knew that fighting this feeling would lead to a dark place. 

 

Why fight when she had someone that could be golden in front of her?

 

Why fight it at all?

 

Regina wanted this, wanted what she had to offer the blonde. She craved it and couldn’t find it with anyone else. 

 

This girl, this young woman, seemed different. 

 

She proved to be different. 

 

And she could see it in her strong eyes when Emma’s met her’s as the words were breathed out of the young woman’s lips into her own, “Family, I want family.” 

 

Regina’s lips curved, cutting a smile into her face as satisfaction and desire overtook the nerves running through her body. Her blood boiled for the blonde in front of her and a hand slide out of the curls to cup the back of her neck and hold her in place. Regina’s voice was sultry and excited and dangerous, “Would you like being mine, Emma? How would you like that?” 

 

Confidence covered the Queen in a false since of confidence as she felt Emma’s breath hitch in her chest and stop. It caused a laugh to escape the blood red lips and encouraged Regina to tell the blonde that she needed to breathe, “Its necessary, dear.” 

 

Emma pushed against the hands that was keeping her head in place to let her eyes shift across Regina’s face - trying to take in the offer and if there were anything that was left out. 

 

Was Regina asking out of truth and want or was she trying to trick the blonde? 

 

The question was genuine and Emma couldn’t convince herself that it wasn’t. 

 

Regina’s hand caressed the sensitive skin at the nape of Emma’s neck - trying to sooth her. And like a fucking betraying cunt, Emma’s eyelids closed and her breathing continued as the soft caresses of the woman calmed her. 

 

Emma’s muscles twitched - she wanted to run, bolt out of the room and past any fucking guards and leave. 

 

She wanted her freedom and to hide and to run and never be back in this fucking city. 

 

Emma heard that Washington was nice this time of the year, Seattle would be nice to disappear to. 

 

But Regina’s touch remained and Emma didn’t bolt and it was gentle and Regina’s breath was warm and Emma felt herself breathing freely. 

 

It’s been so long. 

 

It’s been so long since she was touched in such a gentle, comforting way. 

 

It felt good. 

 

Very good.

 

Regina waited patiently. Flickering her eyes over Emma’s face, watching each thought pass over her forehead and loose it’s trail to her mouth as the battle within was becoming stronger and stronger. 

 

It scared the older woman. 

 

She was used to getting what she wanted without question. 

 

But she had just given this young woman more power than she had given anyone else. 

 

It was unnerving and stupid and Regina started to kick herself for showing a weakness towards the blonde. 

 

Towards the sadness and fear that covered her face when she realized what her brother and the blue fairy had done to her. 

 

The imprint of Emma’s face would last in Regina’s mind for a long time and the feelings that rushed into the woman seemed etched into her skin. 

 

It was conflicting - caring. 

 

It went against what Regina was, what she was raised to be. 

 

It grated against her instincts and caused her head to hurt. 

 

She wanted to lash out at the girl for causing this. 

 

But Emma’s face and Emma’s want for family and how, Regina would bet, that she wanted to be loved just as much as Regina, herself, wanted. 

 

“You want me to be your’s?” Emma asked, voice raising toward the end in disbelief. Not completely understanding what was being offered, she added, “As something more? Something not a pet?” 

 

Regina paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to answer. 

 

Her fingers, gentle in their caresses, trailed down from their spots on Emma’s neck and hair to trace her collar bone. Regina’s smile turned to a honeyed smirk as Emma trembled under her fingers. 

 

Regina imagined the young girl under her, shaking and withering as Regina fucked her, took her any and every way. 

 

Then she imagined Emma’s face in her neck as she slide against her, whispering gentle words into Emma’s ear. 

 

Regina paused, letting her fingers press against the blonde’s collar bone as she took a deep breath. 

 

This was getting to be too much. 

 

Her walls were coming down all too quickly around the blonde and she hated it - hated the feeling it created in her stomach. 

 

Regina raised an eyebrow, mask falling into place. 

 

"What else would you be?" Regina’s tone was light but quickly turned serious – deadly. "It's either be mine or dead, dear, and I have grown quiet fond of you already."

 

"Dead?" Emma said, heart beating. The threat laced in Regina’s voice causing her to tense. 

 

The woman nodded, voice turning to sugar. "Yes, my dear, you were offered to me as payment and either you tie yourself to me or I will have to have you killed - simple as that, my darling.”

 

And there it was - like food dangling in front of the starved. 

 

A choice given - but not a real choice. 

 

Emma should have been used to it. 

 

Her heart shouldn’t have broken this harshly at the words coming out of Regina’s lips. 

 

She shouldn’t be this hurt. 

 

Emma stood still, body tense, white knuckling the sides of the robe, before nodding her head.

 

She understood the only option she had. 

 

Be Regina’s glorified pet or die. 

 

Because she was payment after all - the sacrificial lamb. 

 

Regina’s eyes darted to Emma's pink lips before flickering back to her eyes. She let her fingers continue their dance across Emma’s exposed collarbone, picking up little drops of water on her finger tips before letting them spread across her chest. 

 

Regina leant in and breathed in the power that she had over the young girl - the power that she had over herself and the ability to rebuild walls that were at high risk of being destroyed. 

 

“You are mine, Emma,” Regina breathed out - the fear that was slowly clouding Emma’s eyes and the way her foot lifted off the ground to step away from Regina caused the warmth to come back, only a tiny bit, when she added, “In what way it up to you.” 

 

She left the door open. 

 

The options there for the blonde to choose. 

 

A small flicked of hope in a very, very dark room. 

 

But she couldn’t stop herself, addicted to the power and reaction it caused. The words fell from her lips and slapped the blonde against her face, “Forget who you were, Emma. You are no more a lost and broken child, no more apart of that filth that The Blue Fairy is in charge of, and you are certainly no more a girl without a family. Your past is dead and so is that girl that you used to be.” 

 

The tone turned deadly and rang through Emma's entire body. The sheer power in the woman's voice causing Emma's body to react with arousal and fear. 

 

Two powerful emotions playing on the other and coursing through her blood stream. 

 

Voice violent, silky, encouraging Emma's heart to slow in pace.

 

Like magic.

 

Their gaze never broke.

 

Emma didn't dare look anywhere else except the swirling storm behind the Regina's eyes.

 

Her beautiful eyes.

 

Emma let the words weigh within her - swallowing them down and letting them settle into her stomach. 

 

She took a deep breath, trying to regain herself. Emma reached deep inside herself, trying to find the girl who took no shit from anyone. She tried to find the strong and resilient girl. 

 

And only when she found a small sliver, she asked boldly, “So, if I’m your’s - will that make you mine?” 

 

It was nearly laughable to the Queen. 

 

Nearly. 

 

Which was why it scared the shit out of her. 

 

Regina broke contact with the girl and turned to walk away - needing space from Emma - before she paused at the door and turned quickly to face the blonde. Regina lifted her hand up to run it through her hair as she let out a sigh. 

 

It was late now. 

 

Guards were outside her penthouse door, like always, but inside the plush apartment was only her, Emma, and her father. 

 

Intimate. 

 

It made it so hard to battle herself and her walls. 

 

Her voice was lower, raw, when she answered. “I won’t let you go, Emma.” 

 

It wasn’t an answer to her question but it wasn’t not an answer. 

 

And even then, Emma didn’t know if she wanted a certain answer anyway. 

 

“Get comfortable,” Regina said, tone still soft, “I’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom across the hall, Emma, if you should need anything. Enjoy my bed, dear.” 

 

Emma watched her go, leaving the door cracked open.

 

Emma stared at it for a moment before sinking onto the floor, breaths coming out in uneven and broken sobs as her world toppled over. 

 

**IIIIIII**

 

She was a Queen.

 

Regal.

 

In control.

 

Emma hear rumors that there was a mob, but it was fucking Boston and she no reason to ever believed them.

She should have known something was up at the convent. 

 

She fucking should have known that this morning wasn’t a good idea. 

 

But she was so fucking desperate. 

 

And now she was laying on top of the comforter on the large bed that smelled of the woman who caused bees to buzz inside her torso. 

 

Regina Mills, the head of the most powerful mafia in the entire world, the Queen of the underground world.

 

She was the fucking Queen of all the royalty.

 

The don.

 

The crime boss.

 

The fucking kingpin.

 

By whatever name one chooses, she was the fucking ruler.

 

And not some fairy tale that was told in old gangster movies.

 

Regina Mills owned everything and everyone.

 

The look of power, control, and lethality stayed in her eyes, a sign that she was undestroyable royalty.

 

Hidden behind cover ups and smiling presidents, Regina ruled. If you scratch the surface of any kind of law or government or ring, Regina was behind it.

 

She was the fucking law.

 

Like any ruler, she could make anything happen anywhere in the entire world.

 

One word from her and you never existed.

 

She grasped tighter to her knees, holding them against her chest, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

She had a headache and she wanted to believe it was due to not wearing the glasses that sat on the night table next to her bed in the dorms. She hadn’t worn them all day but she knew that anyone who had survived a day like today would have some kind of headache.

 

Sighing, Emma let her legs down and stood up. She walked around the room slowly, looking around at her surroundings.

 

She tried not to not think about why Regina would want her anyway. 

 

She was trash. 

 

Never wanted. 

 

Always used. 

 

But maybe that was it - Regina wanted to use her. 

 

Emma sighed, focused on looking around, noticing that there were loaded guns placed specifically around the room in various spots – it made her stomach churn.

 

The décor was warm but strict.

 

Whites and blacks and a hint of purple.

 

It wasn't soft enough for Emma – though she would never admit it.

 

She missed her dorm room that she once shared with Mary Margaret.

 

The other girl was expecting a call from her tonight. 

 

A call she would probably never get. 

 

They had filled the dorm with photos of their adventures, childhood photos that they had clutched onto over the years, and there weren't any in this room.

 

No personal things that signaled who lived there.

 

There was one photo, next to the side of bed that she seemed to sleep in.

 

Emma walked over, lifting up the black frame to examine the photography. It was a picture of a man with a toddler on a horse. He had a bright smile but the little girl's smile was brighter – hair wiping in her face as she held onto the reins of the horse.

 

They looked happy and it was the first thing that Emma had seen in a long time that brought a smile to her face.

 

She head footsteps pad across the hallway floor, confidence resounding in every step bring Emma back to reality.

 

She quickly sat the photo down and turned to the dark haired woman walking into the room. 

 

Regina's hair was wet and combed back. Emma couldn't help but let her eyes trail over the robe similar to the one that she currently wore. 

 

It took a lot of willpower to meet Regina's eyes.

 

Regina walked forward before stopping in front of the blonde, "Couldn't sleep?"

 

Emma worried her lip, shaking her head, “I have trouble the first night in a new room.” 

 

Regina’s smile faltered, confidence dropped, and she was suddenly reminded that Emma wasn’t just a convent girl. 

 

She was one of their orphans that the Blue Fairy probably picked up within the last few years. 

 

Emma never had a family. 

 

Had a home to call her own. 

 

It stung. 

 

A small, gentle smile rose onto Regina's lips. She reached forward, daring to make another connection with the blonde only an hour after she resolved that she would distance herself from the blonde until she knew she could maintain her power. 

 

But her fingers grazed over the side of Emma’s neck and slipped back to the nape were her fingers lightly massaged - she had already learned one way to sooth the young woman. 

 

Regina liked that. 

 

“What makes you feel comfortable, my dear?” Regina whispers, fingers kneading and caressing the sensitive skin as her eyes shift to take in Emma’s relaxed and sullen expression. “Hot tea or perhaps music?” 

 

Emma shook her head, neither what she needed. 

 

Emma felt a sudden need to cover up with her childhood blanket. The thin, yet soft material that was lying across the twin size bed in the dorm at the convent. She had tossed it onto the bed, some of it spilling over onto the night stand to cover the photo album that she created with Mary Margaret. 

 

It was a childish thought – wanting these things.

 

But the need for the safe feeling that those things gave to her was overweighing the childish feeling.

 

Emma sighed, wanting to believe that the woman across from her had some humanity in her.

 

But there was an unsettling feeling in her stomach the moment the blonde opened her mouth.

 

"Regina?" Emma kept her voice low, fearful.

 

"Yes?" Regina's tone returned to a gentle softness that Emma needed - her caresses picked up, urging the blonde to continue.

 

 

Emma turned reached up with one hand to touch Regina’s arm, to caress it and enjoying the softness of the olive toned skin. It helped her force the words out. 

 

"Regina….can I get my," Nervousness was taking over Emma's body, making her shiver. "Can I get my stuff from the convent?"

 

Emma's quickly adverted her eyes, looking away from Regina, feeling exposed.

 

More exposed than what she was comfortable with.

 

Emma hated this feeling.

 

So fucking much.

 

"Dear?"

 

Emma turned around, taking longer for her to look into Regina's eyes. The older woman stepped closer, their bodies so close, and brought a silky finger from her other hand under Emma's chin, lifting her head so that she could meet her eyes.

 

"Never be afraid to talk to me," Regina's softening her caresses at the back of her neck, now knowing that it provided the young woman with something that resembled comfort.

 

Emma's eyes dipped closed as she nodded.

 

It was an odd feeling, wanting to curl up with someone you didn't know about. She considered asking Regina to stay in the room tonight with her - it was her room after all. Emma's body screamed at her to curl up next to her – in her arms, forgetting about the entire fucking world.

 

It became too much and Emma pulled back from the softness, and the softness instantly fell away from Regina's eyes.

 

Her face harden, unreadable expression taking over her features.

 

Regina dropped her hands and took a step back. 

 

Distancing herself would be her new defense against the blonde. 

 

She ground her teeth for a moment before turning to head out of the room. 

 

Like earlier, Regina turned to meet Emma’s eyes, her hand lifting to rest above the light switch before flicking them off.

 

The room washed in moonlight. 

 

“No,” her voice was cold. “You don’t need any of that anymore. If the Blue Fairy didn’t send it, then it obviously wasn’t important.” 

 

Emma opened her mouth, breath heaving out in a gasp as she reached forward to try to stop Regina from walking away. Emma whispered desperately. "Please?"

 

Begging wasn't uncommon for a girl who lead a life like she had – though it didn't make her hate it any less.

 

It was the only materialistic things left to Emma.

 

She needed them.

 

Regina turned her back to Emma, the moonlight illuminating her silhouette.

 

Emma's heart flopped and she watched Regina for a moment. She hoped that she would change her mind, to walk back to the young blonde and caress the back of Emma’s neck again.

 

It didn't happen.

 

Regina turned away from the blonde and left the room. 

 

This time she closed the door. 

 

Leaving the blonde with no connection. 

 

Leaving her to deal with the sobs escaping her lips as she willed her lithe body to crawl back into the bed and stumble underneath the covers. 

 

Emma was lying in this huge fucking bed, surrounded by the smell of the most beautiful woman in the entire world who was offering her more than she ever had before, and Emma still felt so fucking lost.

 

So unsafe.

 

She just wanted a ratty old cover to cling to.

 

It was pathetic.

 

Emma tried taking deep breaths, her body already succumbing to sleep.

 

Her breaths began to even.

 

And soon, Emma Swan was asleep.

 

She dreamed of a sister she once hard with a pixie cut and infectious positive attitude. She dreamed of the life in a small town in Maine. She dreamed of going to school and finding her happy ending. 

 

She dreamed of being safe.

 

**IIIII**

 


	4. Shove It

**Shove It**

 

 **Trigger Warning:** **Childhood abuse, sexual abuse, rape, and murder. This is a MAFIA inspired fic - there will be darkness.**

 

**THIS IS A REWRITE. PLEASE REREAD BEGINNING CHAPTERS OR ELSE THINGS WILL NOT MAKE SENSE. THERE WILL BE SIMILARITIES BUT MANY, MANY DIFFERENCES. I HOPE THAT YOU ENJOY IT!**

 

**FOLLOW MY TUMBLR FOR ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING THIS! PLEASE REFER TO THE “KINGDOM COME SERIES” TAG ON MY TUMBLR FOR THE EXPLANATION. I PROMISE I DIDN’T DO THIS JUST ON A WHIM.**

 

**[UNEDITED]**

 

**IIII**

 

**KINGDOM COME SERIES**

**PART FOUR**

**Shove It**

 

**IIII**

 

She had a dream that she was wrapped around Regina in the most unbecoming fashion. 

 

Her legs tangled with Regina’s as the slick heat of the other woman pressed against her thigh causing a delicious moan to escape the young blonde’s lips. She was surrounded by Regina. Everything. Her smell, the feel of her skin pressed against her own heated skin, the way that she could nuzzle into her hair, breathe into her ear, and the shaky breaths that escaped Regina’s parted lips to whisper against her skin. Everything. 

 

Emma bucked her hips once more, rocking her clit against Regina’s - the other woman moving her hips down causing Emma’s sensitive nub to come in contact with the dark coarse curls. 

 

Emma savored the sound of Regina’s teasing laughter, the way that the woman caressed the back of her neck and whispered into her ear, “Someone’s all too eager to be mine, wouldn’t you think?” 

 

Emma paused, wet heat pooling onto Regina and harden nipples pressing below the queen’s breasts. 

 

She was her’s. 

 

Wasn’t she?

 

Isn’t that what Emma had wanted?

 

To be someones. 

 

“Tell me,” Regina growled into Emma’s ear, nipping at the flesh as her hand slid up her neck to thread her fingers into Emma’s long curls and then fisted the hair, pulling Emma’s head back with force so that her mouth could bite harshly at her neck. She growled, teeth gnashed against Emma’s skin, “Tell me who you belongs to, now.” 

 

Emma woke up with a start, chest heaving, “Your’s” falling from her lips in a soft scream against the plush pillows. 

 

**IIII**

 

It settles in somewhere between her bones and cartilage the next morning. 

 

She was too wet to fall back asleep. The throbbing between her legs a constant reminder of the state she was in, but she had no ability to fix herself. 

 

She couldn’t. 

 

She couldn’t fuck herself in a time like this, in a bed that belonged to what she should refer to as her captor. 

 

Regina was her captor, right? 

 

Stay or die? 

 

No real choice in that matter. 

 

Emma sighed, feeling a ball in the pit of her stomach that weighed her into the bed and kept her there, unable to move, as if everything was pushing her down into the plush bed and suffocating her to the point that breathing was a chore. 

 

It hurt. 

 

It was painful and she wasn’t who she had once been. 

 

She didn’t feel strong or resilient .

 

She felt weak. 

 

She felt like she was succumbing to her fate instead of fighting for what she wanted, what she believed she needed. 

 

The fight was gone. 

 

Remember, Emma Swan was dead. 

 

She was almost nineteen. 

 

She spent all these years fighting for hope. 

 

And she was so close to grasping it. 

 

She was almost nineteen and she had fought for everything in life, doing things and accepting lives that would lead to her survival. 

 

There once was a promise of happy endings and promise and family. 

 

A promise of family to a girl who desperately wanted it. 

 

Didn’t Regina offer the same thing? 

 

But at a cost? 

 

Who pays for family?

 

Was that why Emma never could grasp one? Because the cost had always been too great? 

 

Or maybe it was because she had always been the cost for others to have one. 

 

Yes, she was always the cost. 

 

The sacrifice. 

 

This case was no different, Emma was still the lamb waiting to be slaughtered. 

 

No matter how much she tried to hold onto the good, it was plucked from her palms and now, she laid in the bed where she would be suffocated by choices that she never wanted to make. 

 

Choices. 

 

It was laughable, really, if it wasn’t her to be the one to have them thrust upon. 

 

Emma kicked off the duvet, body stretched out and hot in the bed. She had woke up earlier from her dream drenched in sweat and the heat never left her. 

 

She was suffocating. 

 

Burning up and suffocating. 

 

But yet, she knew that death would never truly be offered to her and an escape never lit up with red lights. 

 

She was trapped. 

 

Here. 

 

In this bed. 

 

Surrounded by a woman who didn’t even share a bed with her. 

 

Her smell, the image of her, the perfection of a queen who owned the world. 

 

This bed would be Emma’s undoing. 

 

**IIII**

 

She fell asleep, body spread across the bed. 

 

Regina found the young blonde with her hair haloed around her head and a anxious face and for a moment, she allowed herself to look over the girl with affection. 

 

She felt connected to the girl who so desperately wanted a family and she wanted to give that to her. 

 

Emma was attractive, very much so. 

 

Headstrong, most likely. 

 

But the unsung song that vibrated between the two women was loud and infection and taking over Regina’s entire body. 

 

She couldn’t sleep without heated dreams of the blonde. 

 

Emma occupied her thoughts. 

 

The blonde, spread in her bed, clothes stuck to her body due to heated sweat, would be her undoing. 

 

That is probably why there was a gentlenesss in the way that she climbed onto the bed from the bottom. Hand and knees crawling up before she slide next to the blonde. 

 

Emma had drool coming out of the corner of her mouth and her eyes shifted back and forth under her eyelids. 

 

It was endearing in a nerve wrecking way to Regina. 

 

She would have sneered at it before. Sneered at the drool dropping onto her perfect sheets. 

 

Instead, she curled a hand under her head and watched Emma for a moment. 

 

Laying her other hand on the girl’s stomach, lightly letting her fingers caress the exposed skin between the waistband of Emma’s pants and where her shirt had risen above her belly button. 

 

After a few minutes of watching the girl sleep, Emma began to stir. 

 

Jolting Regina in the way that she jumped away, quickly awake, chest throbbing with each breath. 

 

Concerned marred Regina’s face and instead of promising herself distance from the blonde, she quickly changed it to only allowing emotions to come out here in this room. 

 

The queen didn’t like the way that Emma jumped away, fear overcoming her face for a moment before the blonde quickly schooled a harden look to overtake her features. 

 

“Breathe, dear,” Regina whispered, hand still outstretched but slowly lowering.

 

Emma’s eyes widened, sleep ridden, as she shifted her eyes to taken in her environment and the woman before her. 

 

Slightly disoriented from the lack of sleep and stress. 

 

It hit her in the gut, causing her to wrap an arm around her stomach to sooth the pain. 

 

Every single thing. 

 

A sting across her face and a nausea deep in her churning stomach. 

 

Emma was here to pay a price that a woman she thought she could trust owed. 

 

She was promised family but given up by her own blood. 

 

Emma Swan was now the Queen’s. 

 

Was now thrust into an underground world that she had never been privy to. 

 

The Queen. 

 

Regina Mills. 

 

A woman who owned her. 

 

Emma tried to take a deep breath. 

 

Both women stilled their bodies. 

 

Regina noticed the twitch in the muscles of Emma’s arms, the fearful way the looked around to asses her environment. Regina felt her stomach drop in an uncommon way due to the realization that Emma’s life had been very, very hard. 

 

Anger pooled inside for the girl. 

 

Possession and protectiveness curled around Regina’s hands as she realized the imprint that was left on the girl before her. 

 

She knew that when she would sit down at her desk this morning, opening the file with Swan comma Emma on it, she would read a story that she wished she could take an eraser and change. 

 

Regina too another breath, calming herself and stoning her heart. 

 

Weakness was not acceptable, words her mother told her as a small toddler. 

 

Emma was more alert, sleep ran away. 

 

Her stomach was still warm, less tense than the rest of her body. 

 

It disturbed her as she enjoyed the feeling in her stomach. Enjoyed the memory of soft, gentle fingertips on her skin. 

 

Emma wasn’t familiar with the gentle caresses that Regina offered her in the moments of just the two of them. 

 

Was she trying to coax her? Gain her trust before plunging a knife into her heart? 

 

That’s what most people did but they didn't pacify her with a false gentleness. 

 

But she couldn’t deny science. 

 

The magnetic pull between the two of them had Emma settling, crossing her legs and letting her knees daringly bump into Regina’s chest and hip bone. Regina’s hand found the top of Emma’s thigh. Emma noticing the possessive way that she curled her fingers around and let her fingers rest dangerously close to the apex of her thighs. 

 

“Good girl,” Regina whispered as Emma calmed her breathing, her fingers starting to caress. 

 

Emma took a few more deep breaths, settling her body and trying to stone her body from her earlier weakness. 

 

She probably shouldn’t show vulnerability to the queen. 

 

Shouldn’t let her see what made her weak. 

 

Another deep breath and she began to worry the corner of her bottom lip. 

 

She lowered her head as she breathed, unable to look into Regina’s eyes, but her eye quickly noticing the robe that Regina wore, loosely tied. 

 

The swell of Regina’s breasts were in Emma’s vision. The older woman noticed Emma’s eyes and gave her a smirk, “You’re welcome to see more, dear.” Regina offered, covering the intense moment with an inappropriate comment. 

 

Regina noticed that it worked as Emma’s cheeks turned a rosy color and the young blonde looked away in embaressment. 

 

Modesty wasn’t something that concerned the blonde before, especially in a dorm she shared with a handful of other girls, but she couldn’t help but be timid in the presence of the older woman. 

 

Or she simply didn’t trust herself. 

 

Regina was a walking minefield that Emma needed to learn to navigate. 

 

Or maybe, possibly, it was the other way around?

 

Regina caressed her thigh once more, squeezing it as she tilted her head to get Emma’s eyes on her own. She gave her a soft smile, one that she had reserved for her father instead of a young girl in her bed. But the fear behind Emma’s eyes when she woke up sat in Regina’s stomach and churned, creating an illness to overtake the woman. A desire to sooth the girl, to cause her comfort. 

 

Surprising both women, Regina leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the knee close to her chest before removing her hand. 

 

She got up, leaving the bed empty and Emma alone. 

 

She crossed the room to the bathroom, pausing to turn and lean against the threshold. “There is an outfit out in the closet for you. It should be comfortable and head down to the kitchen for breakfast. I have business to attend to but Kathryn, a close family friend, will meet you there for breakfast. Once I am finish, I will retrieve the both of you to go shopping. Go ahead and let Kathryn know things that you like so that they are ready once we arrive at the store or anything else that you need to make you feel comfortable being here.” 

 

Emma pressed her tongue in her cheek, “I told you what I needed.” 

 

The words fell out before she could control them. 

 

Regina gave her a pointed look before ignoring them. 

 

Emma bit her lip, preventing herself from asking about her keepsakes again and feeling the heat of Regina’s glare in her bones. 

 

Instead, she took a deep breath and asked mentioned something she desperately needed. 

 

“I can’t see.” Emma stated, as if Regina should understand the statement. 

 

Regina furrowed her eyebrows in question, the light from the bathroom illuminating the olive tone curves. “Excuse me, dear?” Regina asked with a tilt of her head in confusion. 

 

Emma quickly back tracked, realizing what she said didn’t make sense. She shook her head clear, “My glasses, I can’t really see without my glasses.” 

 

Regina let out a chuckle, surprising Emma and creating a warm flutter in her stomach. It was soft. “That will be taken care of, Emma. Kathryn will make an appointment this afternoon with my optometrist, as well as a check up that I will have her escort you to after our shopping. We need to make sure you are heathy.” Regina paused, before quickly adding, “Though, I know that the Blue Fairy often takes the best care of her girls. You really must have been the best if she sent you to me.” 

 

Emma frowned as she thought of the last part. She sighed, mumbling, “Resilient, Regina. I’m resilient.” 

 

It was honest and blunt and it stung the older woman. 

 

Regina couldn’t handle that powerful feeling from it settling in her stomach. 

 

She quickly turned and headed into the bathroom, leaving Emma to herself. 

 

And Emma wondered, what happened if she wasn't healthy?

 

Would Regina throw her away?

 

The woman surly wouldn’t keep her forever. 

 

Maybe it was best that she threw her away sooner rather than later.

 

**IIII**

 

“Will you go discuss the terms of agreement with Marco, Kathryn?” Regina asked with a raise of an eyebrow at her blonde friend. A small smirk curling onto her lips, “We wouldn’t want to make Miss Swan feel uncomfortable with an extra set of eyes on her, now would we?” 

 

Kathryn shook her head at her long time friend - probably one of the few people in the entire world who could tease the powerful woman. 

 

She told Emma this morning at breakfast that she knew Regina since they were babies. “Like sisters, most the time, but really just cousins” Kathryn said with a soft, affectionate smile. It was intimate and Kathryn held a softness for the Queen and it warmed a part inside of Emma. 

 

Sparked a tiny morsel of hope in her. 

 

Kathryn mirrored Regina’s smirk and lifted her eyebrows with a tilt of her head at her friend before nodding her head, “Of course, my Queen, send me a text as to when I should meet you back at the car.” 

 

Kathryn smiled softer at Emma, noticing the nervous way the girl clenched and unclenched her fingers in front of her body, before turning and leaving the large dressing room. On her way out, Kathryn reminded the boy to not disturb them unless the Queen opened the door and asked for his assistance. 

 

Regina turned her attention to Emma, heels tapping against the floor as she walked toward the nervous blonde. Emma had one one of her sweaters and black leggings. Casual, something Regina enjoyed wearing on Sunday mornings when she sat in the library with her father. 

 

She liked the way Emma looked in her clothes - nearly enough to stop this little shopping trip. 

 

But not nearly enough. 

 

She wanted to spoil the blonde, wanted to shower her with her own things. 

 

Emma seemed like a girl who didn’t have much but what she did have she valued. 

 

Things that Regina denied her. 

 

So, in her own backwards way, Regina wanted to provide her with new things. 

 

It was something, right? 

 

Regina’s hands found Emma’s arms and caressed down, as if to warm the girl rather than calm her nerves. She grinned at Emma, leaning forward to whisper, “Come, indulge me, dear.” 

 

Emma’s heart raced as she let Regina pull her forward. It wasn’t long before the back of Regina’s legs hit the plush chair in the center of the room and the older woman took a seat, hands calming down to grasp Emma’s hands. 

 

Her legs spread, Emma stood between them and looked down at Regina. 

 

This wasn’t a position the Queen allowed anyone but she indulged the girl, gave her this power, and Emma took it in. 

 

She breathed a little bit more freely. 

 

Regina licked her teeth as she met Emma’s eyes, “I want to see you strip for me, dear, and try on those clothes. Lets see what we can splurge on today.” 

 

Emma froze, eyebrows furrowing at Regina, as she asked with a voice stronger than Regina expected, “Strip?” 

 

Regina let out a small, dark chuckle, “Are you questioning me, Emma?” 

 

Emma nodded her head, bold, “It sounded that way.” 

 

Regina smirk faded slightly, heart thumped harder against her chest. 

 

Emma was challenging her. 

 

No one ever challenged her. 

 

It excited the Queen. 

 

With a yank of Emma’s hands, Regina pulled the girl down, letting a delicious groan escape her lips with Emma’s knee came down between her legs to catch herself so that she didn’t fall onto the other woman. Emma let her eyes drop for a moment, seeing that her knee pushed up the pencil skirt that Regina wore, before quickly flickering her eyes back to Regina’s.

 

Their faces moments apart, Emma’s knee pressed into Regina’s center, their breath picking up faster. 

 

“When i tell you to do something, Emma,” Regina whispered, lips ghosting over Emma’s, “You do as your Queen tells you.” 

 

She grinned, her lips pressing a little harder against Emma’s in the most teasing of ways, as she rocked her hips forward. The thin material of her thong, quickly soaked, heating the thin layer that the leggings provided on Emma’s knee. Emma let out a small moan at the realization that Regina’s heat soaked through the material and coated her skin. 

 

She quickly nodded, pressing her knee ever so slightly without thought, before stumbling back from Regina pushing her away. 

 

Regina smiled, tilted her head at Emma, and pressed her blood red lips forward, “Good girl.” 

 

**IIII**

 

Regina watched Emma as she pilled off her clothes until she was in her underwear, watching her change into the different outfits and dressed and skin tight jeans. 

 

Oh yes, Regina would enjoy the young blonde in those many pairs of jeans. 

 

She thought of pilling them off of her, letting her tongue drag across her thighs. 

 

Regina sat back in the chair, watching the blonde and thinking about how Emma would taste when her tongue slipped inside of her cunt. 

 

Oh, Regina needed to let that happen. 

 

Craved to learn the taste of the blonde. 

 

To have her come in her mouth. 

 

It was over too quickly and the blonde had tried on all the clothes that were on the rack filled with clothes just for her. 

 

Regina had the store deliver it to her penthouse, along with anything else the shopper thought would look good on the blonde. 

 

They left the store and pressed against each other in the back of the Land Rover. 

 

When Regina got dropped off in front of a large, towering building in downtown Boston, she let her lips brush against Emma’s cheek, leaving the girl with a burning feeling against her sensitive skin for the rest of the afternoon. 

 

**IIII**

 

She got four pairs of glasses, refusing the contacts that Kathryn recommended.

 

And she learned that not everyone in the business was a scary thug.

 

Kathryn Nolan was the leading legal in Regina’s business.

 

Apparently, Kathryn had been bred to rise to the top, president material in the next election.

 

It was a wonderful contrast to Regina, who was bred to be the Queen – Kathryn let it escape that the women in the business was bred for that position, like Regina’s mother had been.

 

Their family was about matriarchs.

 

At least that's what Kathryn spoke about.

 

And Emma listened, hung on every word that escaped her lips. Kathryn was patience and understanding and gentle – especially with Emma.

 

Emma didn’t know if it was at Regina’s instruction or if she was generally just a gentle person.

 

Either way, Emma needed it.

 

"You'll be good for her," Kathryn said low, making sure the burly men following them into the doctor’s office didn't hear them.

 

Emma lifted her head, seeing clearly out of her designer black framed glasses as they stepped into the elevator, "What do you mean?"

 

Kathryn smiled softly at the blonde, "I think that you'll be good for her. Her heart has been frozen for too long."

 

Emma didn't know how to take that.

 

She didn't know if she should be relieved about it or if that information should sit uncomfortably in her stomach.

 

Kathryn smiled at her softly before taking her forearm and leading her into the office, "Come on, lets get you checked out. Afterwards, we can get a dessert at the cafe down the street before meeting Regina back at the penthouse.”

 

**IIII**

 

Emma sat in the middle of the bed, enjoying the comfort of how the comforter molded into her body. She wore grey yoga pants and a teal razor back tank top when Regina stormed into the room, slamming the bedroom door closed behind her startling the young blonde. 

 

It had been three days and Emma barely seen the woman after their shopping trip. 

 

There were pressing matters that demanded Regina’s attention - she was either out of the penthouse, at her office, or locked away in the guest bedroom - refusing to take her room back from the blonde. 

 

Emma had been left with Regina’s father most days, spending her days in a vast library at the back of the penthouse and enjoying the older man’s company. 

 

Sometimes Kathryn would come to get her to take her out for lunch or dinner. 

 

Mostly, Emma locked herself away. 

 

Regina never told her what she was really allowed to do and there was no way Emma wanted to overstep anything. 

 

Emma’s head shot up from the sketchbook in her lap. She quickly closed it and leaned over to sit it on the nightstand as her eyes glanced up at the heated expression on Regina’s face. 

 

A gasped slipped out of Emma’s lips. 

 

“Is that blood?!” Emma asked incredulously. 

 

Regina took a deep breath, calming her anger ever so slightly as she arched an eyebrow at the girl in black framed glasses. She licked her teeth, asking, “Really, dear?” 

 

The condescending tone in her voice caused Emma to recoil away, sink deeper into the comforter. The blonde moved her hand up to rub at her chest, over her heart in hopes to calm the fear quickly swelling there. She worried her bottom lip as she took in the blood stained dress. 

 

Was that? 

 

Regina’s hair hung, limply, filled with the crimson liquid that dripped down to coat her neck. 

 

She looked like she got in a paint fight with a toddler rather than worse another human’s life against her skin. 

 

Is this what Emma’s life now consisted of? 

 

Being owned by a crime boss who came home splattered in blood? 

 

The thought quickly crossed her head - didn’t a Queen have others to do the dirty work?

 

“Come here, Emma,” Regina demanded, tone low with authority. 

 

Emma seemed to have already forgot what it felt like to have a gentle caress across the back of her neck and the feather like press of lips against her cheek. 

 

That really wasn’t Regina. 

 

Emma told her self. 

 

This was Regina. 

 

Authority and power and blood. 

 

Emma stood up on her knees and paused there for a moment. 

 

Her eyes glanced over the woman - taking her in for a moment. 

 

There was dried blood on Regina’s shoes at the pointed tip. 

 

It stuck out more so than the rest. 

 

A rip in the back seem of Regina’s tights showing the expanse of olive tone skin. 

 

For a moment, Emma found herself aroused. 

 

But as her eyes found Regina’s once again, the intensity behind them, Emma quickly felt the weight of everything drop into her. She climbed off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor as she moved closer to the woman. 

 

Emma stopped a step away. 

 

She was clean. 

 

Sanitize herself over and over again in the shower since she arrived here. 

 

Emma really didn’t want to get dirty again. 

 

Her fingers went to nervously rub against the leg of her pants. The sight of fresh blood on Regina’s clothes made her stomach hurt. 

 

Regina moved closer to Emma, closing the space between the two of them as she pressed her body against the younger woman’s. A finger came up to slip under Emma’s chin, forcing Emma to meet her eyes. 

 

Regina leaned in, licking her lips and Emma’s eyes darted to the pink tongue that slid across lips before flickering back to Regina’s eyes. 

 

Emma could feel Regina’s breath against her nose and lips. 

 

They were so close, she could press her lips forward. 

 

“Don’t question what it is that I do, darling,” Regina spoke with a clear, husky voice. Honeyed and breathtaking, she continued, “You will find out in due time, my dear, but right now, you will do as I say. Do you understand?” 

 

Emma’s eyes widened and Regina moved her hand to grasp Emma’s chin to keep her eyes on her. 

 

“Be a good girl, Emma, and start the shower for me,” Regina voice was thick with honey, enticing and caused a hunger to flare up in the back of Emma’s throat. “Then, dear, I want you to join me.” 

 

IIII

 

Regina stepped in first, tossing the towel out after her leaving Emma with the sight of her perfect ass causing the blonde to freeze for a moment, lost in the arousal that was pooling at the inside of her thighs. 

 

She took a deep breath, dropping the towel she had clutched around her middle and let her eyes focus on Regina lifting her face up to the shower spray. 

 

Emma slowly walked into the shower, closing the door behind her. She felt self-conscious and embarrassed at how nervous she felt. 

 

Regina turned around in the spray, reaching a hand out for Emma. 

 

Emma bit her lip, her thumping wildly in her chest. It was enough to cause her difficulty to breathe, to want to freeze in the spot by the door and possibly turn to run out. 

 

But instead, she lifted a hand for Regina to grasp and pull her closer. 

 

Not against her body. 

 

But closer. 

 

Emma watched with wide eyes as hot water slide down the olive skin and carried blood down the drain. 

 

All of Regina’s sins suddenly washed away and forgotten. 

 

Leaving a Queen where a sinner had once stood. 

 

“Are you nervous?” Regina asked, moving so that she could wrap an arm around Emma’s waist and pull the young girl with her under the spray of the shower head with her. 

 

Emma nodded her head, hands still at her sides as she leaned into the warm touch.

 

Their bodies was moments apart, so fucking close, and as Emma’s nipples hardened at the though - the sensitive, nerve filled nubs brushed against the top swell of Regina’s breasts causing both women to let out a breathy gasp. 

 

Regina smiled softly at her, caressing the dip in Emma’s back above her ass where water pooled. Her eyes traveled down Emma’s throat and collar bone before trailing back up, flickering over her lips, before pausing at her eyes. She gave Regina a cheeky but sincere grin, a compromise between being too connected and not getting too attached to the blonde. Regina tried to fool herself, at least. 

 

“You don’t have to be nervous with me, Emma. You don’t have to be afraid. Do you understand, darling?” Regina’s fingers continued to stroke. Soothing. Gentle. 

 

Emma sucked in a shaky breath, loosing the small amount of control she had over herself. 

 

For a moment she thought that maybe this moment meant something more important than she could grasp. 

 

It reminder her of the pastor and his wife and how they said water always washed away people’s sins, how it would wash away her sins. 

 

Her eyes flickered down to the blood leaving the shower and disappearing. 

 

All washed away. 

 

Leaving Regina completely clean. 

 

Her sins gone and dead. 

 

Regina was just like Emma now - a blank canvas. 

 

The woman in front of her caused Emma’s stomach to jump and touched fire into her skin. 

 

Regina searched Emma’s eyes for a moment, flickering her own back and forth to try to grasp everything inside Emma. 

 

It was as if she was searching, as if she cared. 

 

It rang within the blonde, powerful like church bells on a sunday afternoon. Her voice was more confident when she spoke, “I understand.” 

 

Regina raised an eyebrow, enjoying the spark flaring up in the blonde. She leaned forward, lips tickling Emma’s when she spoke, “Good girl, you are such a good girl, Emma.” 

 

The words, “good girl”, was now Emma’s favorite thing to hear. 

 

She was confident about that. 

 

It set fire to Emma’s heart and caused her belly to rumble with hunger. 

 

Emma was starving, ravenous. 

 

So, it was no surprised when Regina slid her hand up Emma’s spine to cup her hand behind Emma’s neck, nails digging into the sensitive skin of her throat, and pulled Emma into her. Their heated bodies, wet, pressed against each other. Their lips connecting in a fierce and unforgiving kiss. Their breathing ragged as desperation overtook them, Emma’s hands sliding up to grasp Regina’s waist and to press her body more into Regina’s. 

 

Wet, slipper bodies sliding together. 

 

Regina’s thigh slipping between Emma’s thighs, becoming coated with Emma’s slick arousal. 

 

Emma let out a moan against Regina’s lips, digging her nails into the olive toned hips, and rocked her hips forward against Regina. 

 

“Yes,” Regina growled, teeth grasping Emma’s bottom lip, “Mine.” 

 

**IIII**

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Bloody Empire

 

**Bloody Empire**

 

 

_unedited. chapter was inspired by the playlist “Army of Me” by theirins on 8tracks. I listened to it over and over while writing. I hope that you enjoy <3 _

 

_reminder to everyone, though I think you know it by now, this is apart of the mass rewrite. I suggest you make sure that you have read this from the beginning of the new rewrite so that there isn’t any confusion. There are similarities but mostly everything is rewritten. The end of this chapter was so important in the last one that I didn’t want to change it much ;)_

 

<3 <3

 

**III**

 

**Kingdom Come**

**Part Five**

**Bloody Empire**

 

 

III

 

It was easy to overlook the bright red blood that once coated the Queen when her lips were connected to yours. 

 

It was all too easy to overlook her crimes and status in the world when her nails were dragging across the sensitive skin of your lower back. 

 

No one could ever possess such tenderness and desire and be evil, right? 

 

Regina wasn’t evil, per se, correct? 

 

The rain like water beat down on their heated bodies, washing away doubts and logic, while Emma ground down on the thigh between her thighs once more and moaned into the Queen’s mouth. Even in the shower, Regina could feel just how fucking wet the younger woman was, sliding her cunt across her thigh. 

 

Regina growled against Emma’s lips, “Fuck, you’re so wet, Emma.” 

 

Emma moaned against Regina’s lips and ground her hips against Regina’s thigh again, unable to get sated, unable to process this feeling that she had only ever experienced with herself. 

 

In this moment, it was easy to overlook many things. 

 

To believe things at face value. 

 

After being tossed around and betrayed and treated like shit, Emma started to believe that there wasn’t anything better than what she had. 

 

Mary Margaret made her feel like there was hope, though. 

 

And so she had it, a little bit. 

 

And it left for a while but as she pressed her breasts into Regina’s and moved her hands under her arms and up her back to press her nails into the skin, Emma was thinking that maybe her hope was coming back. 

 

Or it simply could have been the way that Regina growled in her head and lowered a hand to cup her ass in her fist and yanked her even closer. 

 

Sex had an awful way at blinding people. 

 

And Emma fucking begged for it. 

 

She was being offered the tastiest treat from the devil. 

 

How in the world could she refuse it? 

 

The water cascaded down their heads, over their faces as they sucked in some of it in their heated kisses, between their breasts, and onto Regina’s thigh, mixing with the wet trail that Emma was leaving as she continued to work her clit over the slick skin. 

 

There was a heat in Emma’s belly that was licking away any worry that had tried to fill Emma’s body. 

 

Her mind could only process this. 

 

Only process Regina. 

 

Emma dipped her tongue past Regina’s lips to taste the other woman, she moaned into Regina’s mouth as the queen continued to clutch onto her ass and guide her hips back and forth. 

 

Her clit was on fire and the friction was causing her hips to move erratic and fast. 

 

Her need for the crime boss in that moment was deep, needy, desperate and filled with a hunger that Emma couldn’t even understand. 

 

And then, Regina moved a hand between them and settled a finger on top of her hard clit - a hiss escaping Emma’s lips as she pulled away from Regina’s mouth and her eyes widen. 

 

Regina leaned forward, licked at her top lip before moving forward and nuzzling Emma’s cheek with the side of her face. Her finger worked fast, smooth circles over Emma’s clit, adding pressure when Emma’s hips jerked and Emma’s head fell to her shoulder as the young woman gasped for breath. 

 

Emma’s nails dug into the skin of Regina’s back and her mouth moved so that she could bite at Regina’s collarbone and the hiss of air out of the queen’s lips brought Emma over the edge. 

 

She saw stars and her body shook with release. 

 

“Good girl,” Regina breathed into Emma’s hair after a few moments. Enjoying the way Emma’s clit jumped under her fingers as she did slow circles into the heated numb as she brought the girl down for her high. “You’re such a good girl, Emma.” 

 

Her voice was rain on a roof at night and the waves of the ocean and Emma loved it. She pressed her lips against Regina’s collarbone, moaning her thanks into the woman’s skin in hopes that it would soak through and let the queen know just how much she needed this. 

 

Emma was fire in her arms and Regina could feel the blonde’s energy slide down the drain with the water. She moved her hand from between their bodies and slipped it behind her to hit the nozzle to turn off the shower. 

 

Emma moved her head ever so slightly, looking up at Regina, her eyes half open as a simple bliss settled in her skin. “All done?” 

 

Regina gave her a small smile, one that caught Emma’s breathe. 

 

It was sweet, genuine, and filled with so much care. 

 

“Ever the eager one, are we?” Regina teased the blonde, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Come dear, lets get you into bed.” 

 

Regina pushed forward, away from the wall of the shower, to reach for the robes near the door. She untangled her arms from the blonde so that she could wrap the robe around the young girl’s cold body. 

 

Emma let Regina usher them out of the shower and into the queen’s bedroom. Regina pulled back the covers and helped the blonde slide into the bed. She brought up the covers to cover the still shaky body and leaned forward on the bed to look over Emma. 

 

Emma bit her lip, meeting her eyes in the dim room. “Are you going to sleep here tonight?” 

 

Regina’s smile stayed and her voice was so very gentle. She leaned forward to lay a gentle kiss on the corner of Emma’s mouth, whispering against the skin, “Not yet, princess, not yet.” 

 

Emma didn’t realize how much she would miss the older woman until she had closed the bedroom door and left the girl alone in the darkness. 

 

It was funny how easy it was to overlook dangerous things. 

 

To overlook dangerous people. 

 

Emma was a good reader of people - probably one of the best. 

 

But as Regina left the room, a deep yearning for the woman to come back settled in her stomach. 

 

She craved her. 

 

Needed her. 

 

Like the security of the blanket she had left back in her dorm, Emma found that she wanted Regina’s arms wrapped around her and surrounding her from everything else. 

 

She could feel her self slowly start to care about the woman. 

 

Overlooking her sins, that’s what the pastor would say. 

 

She was sinning too. 

 

Being tempted by the queen’s gentle touches, sweet kisses, and promises of a life that was somewhat stable. 

 

And then her fingers sliding across her clit. 

 

Icing on the fucking cake. 

 

Emma’s eyes slowly slide close and her breath started to even. 

 

It was funny how it was all under a guise that she had a choice. 

 

Emma smiled slightly, body surrounded by Regina’s smell. 

 

There was no choice for her - she truly knew that - there was never, ever a choice for the blonde throughout her life. 

 

But that wasn’t Regina’s fault. 

 

This was better. 

 

The best choice, really. 

 

And having Regina Mills, the Queen, pressed against her and circling her clit until Emma Swan came undone was the best part of it all. 

 

At least, that’s what the sleepy, sleepy girl thought as she started to slip out of awareness. 

 

Because, she’ll continue to reach out for the Queen. 

 

Wanting her. 

And that, you see, was her choice.

**III**

Emma didn’t sleep well for the next two weeks. 

She wished for baby blankets and photos of a family that never existed and for a woman who was across the hall. 

Emma had nightmares. 

She would call out in her sleep, waking up in a heated sweat and from the sound of her voice reaching out for something that never was there. 

She was filled with emotions that she didn’t know how to process - unprotected in her sleep - and that’s when the craving for the other woman began to intensify. 

Emma didn’t know that she was there, every night at her door. 

Regina would step inside the room, when the screaming started. 

First night it was out of protection, the second and third and every night after that was out of a need to hold the young woman. 

But never reaching out to her. 

Regina would stand at the doorway, head resting against the cold wood, and watched the emotions play over Emma’s sleeping face. 

Regina studied the way Emma would furrow her eyebrows or shake her head or how her hand would lift up, twitch, as if it was trying to grasp a hold of something. 

She was ruthless and often heartless in her actions. 

Regina knew that about herself. 

But she couldn’t help but want to crawl into the bed and pull Emma into her arms. She was more affectionate with Emma over the last two weeks, but only slightly. A press of lips on the younger girls or caressing her face or kissing her forehead before sending the girl off to bed. 

And she found a fondness for anytime the girl would speak up to her, bite back. 

But she couldn’t comfort her. 

There was a line. 

She couldn’t cross that line. 

She had to distance herself. 

She had to be the heartless queen who ruled over the entire world without attachments. 

Her chance at love was dead. 

Her heart gone. 

No love to give and all empathy exhausted. 

Regina should not want to comfort or care for the girl. 

Emma was here to pay a price that was owed to her. 

She was only nice to the girl - giving her the world - because she knew that Emma had no choice in the matter. 

She was tricked. 

But Regina didn’t care. 

Right? 

She had plans for the girl - she was a necessity to grow the empire and insure that there would be a heir. 

Emma would eventually only be used to breed. 

So she had her use. 

Regina kept telling herself that when her feet moved forward and her arms opened for the girl. 

But Emma cried out once more and Regina stepped back, out the door and closing it behind her. 

She leaned her head against it, sighing. 

Love was weakness. 

Feelings were useless. 

She was heartless. 

Regina Mills, Queen, had to be. 

And as she stoned her face and left to go back to her room each night, Emma would wake up, shaken, hands to her face as she tried to rub away all the nightmares that plagued her. 

Not realizing that there was a woman across the wall with just as many nightmares as her - and a fear that ran deeper in her heart. 

III

Emma often found herself in the library in the grays of the morning after finding that sleep would not grace her. 

It was her new place of solitude. 

One that she found herself able to breathe. 

Emma would curl into the couch, a blanket over her lap, and read one of the many books that lined the wall. 

Hours later, this would be how Henry would find her, a small smile on his face, before he invited her to have breakfast at the circular table near the window. 

Today was different.

“Thanks, Mr. Mills,” Emma said as she smiled softly at the older man before taking a sip of the fresh apple juice he had poured into her cup. 

She had taken a liking to the balding man, enjoying their shared brunches and afternoons in the library. The man taking it onto himself to help Emma finish the rest of her education. Mentioning that it’s the only way she could consider college. 

Emma nearly laughed at that. 

Would she even be alive to see it?

Or need it? 

Henry chuckled at the young girl as he sat down the pitcher of juice after pouring his daughter a glass. The older woman was lost in the stack of papers next to her plate. Henry turned to the blonde, “Please, Emma, call me Henry.” 

He told Emma that every morning, but she told herself that if she called him that, then she would get too comfortable. 

Emma couldn’t do that. 

Instead, she smiled and started to eat her waffles and honey. 

Moaning as the delicious food smothered her tongue and gaining a small look from the busy woman before Regina went back to her papers. 

Every few moments Emma would look up from under her lashes at the woman. Regina was concerned with the papers, her eyes squinted and intense on the words as she shuffled through them. 

Regina barely ever ate with them, often already in her office or out of the penthouse taking care of her empire, but this morning was different. 

Emma wanted to know why. 

The woman was dressed in high wasted navy slacks, a white blouse that tied in the front and her hair was perfect. 

Nothing uncommon for her. 

“Emma?” Henry asked, gaining the young woman’s attention.

Emma shook her head of any thoughts and tried to put on a smile, one dripping of honey from her waffle and causing her to quickly lick it off, before she turned to look at him. 

Henry smiled gentle, continuing, “Yesterday when we talked about NYU, you mentioned a sister?” 

Emma looked quickly at Regina and then back at Henry, “I did?” 

Her nodded, leaning forward to take a bite out of his oatmeal before answering, “Yes, the one at the university in Main.”  

Emma frowned, nodding her head, thinking about Mary Margaret, “Yes, sorry, I had spaced a little bit.” 

Regina lifted her head from her papers, interested in the conversation. 

Henry frowned and reached his hand over to reassure Emma by grasping her own hand. “Oh no, don’t be sorry at all - family is very important and I have a feeling it didn’t come easy for you. Please, tell me more about her. I was very intrigued?” 

Emma paused, feeling her heart quicken. 

She knew the rules. 

Her past was gone. 

It was dead. 

Regina mentioned it the first night. 

Kathryn mentioned it later on. 

You only had to tell this kid once to get it to stick. 

And so Emma found herself scrambling up and out of her chair, mumbling a need to get something back into her room before taking off. 

She didn’t want to think about Mary Margaret. 

Didn’t want to be put in this position. 

III

Emma sat on the balcony outside Regina’s bedroom. 

She leaned back in the wooden reclining chair, legs crossed, squinting at the afternoon sun. 

“It’s cold, dear,” the regal tone in Regina’s voice caused the blonde to turn her head, meeting the cold eyes of the woman leaning against the open door. 

Emma doesn’t know how long she had been out there - but her body was shivering and the sun was high in the sky. 

A few hours at least. 

Regina crossed her arms, cocking an eyebrow, “My father wanted to know more about you, dear.” 

Her voice was hard. 

Controlled. 

Emma turned her head away from Regina and looked back at the Boston skyline. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and brought her knees up to her chest. 

She didn’t know what to say. 

The comment yesterday was a slip, offhanded mention about how Mary Margaret loved a book that the blonde had found. 

Emma wasn’t even thinking. 

She didn’t want to think about the girl. 

She didn’t want to think about the hope that she gave her. 

She wondered how many letters Mary Margaret had written her. 

She wondered if she was worried to not have responses. 

Or maybe August had lied to her. 

Emma had a brother once, too. 

No, she didn’t want to think about him. 

Or her. 

Or any of it. 

Regina walked over toward the chair, taking a seat on the bottom of it, before reaching and pulling Emma’s legs away from her chest. 

It was intimate in the way that she settled them across her lap. 

Arm over a leg and other hand caressing Emma’s handle.  

Regina met her eyes with dark one, eyes trying to look for something that Emma wasn’t entirely sure was there. 

“You’re not sleeping, Emma,” Regina whispered, surprising the blonde. 

Emma bit her lip harder. 

Regina pressed, “I hear you crying out, Emma. You are starting to get circles, dear.” 

“Well I’ll make sure that I cover them up so that I don’t offend you,” Emma quickly quipped before closing her mouth once more. 

Regina dug her nails into the exposed skin on Emma’s ankle, getting a sharp intake of air from the blonde, “No need to get snarky, Emma.” 

Emma frowned at her. 

They sat like that for a moment. 

Staring at each other. 

Emma not understanding why Regina would even care about the lack of sleep. 

Regina turned her gaze away from Emma, fingers gentle again on her skin. “I told Daddy that she didn’t deserve you, Emma.” 

Emma felt her world stop for a moment before yanking her legs back up to her chest and away from Regina. 

Regina had found the fastest way to light Emma on fire. 

The fire similar to the one that burnt through her chest for many many years, helping the girl survive. She asked incredulously, “Excuse me?” 

Regina looked down for a moment, smoothing down her pants, before turning to meet Emma’s eyes. 

“She left you alone with the Blue Fairy,” Regina said, smoothing her tongue over her top teeth as she studied the emotions on Emma’s face. She repeated, “She didn’t deserve you.” 

Emma let out an empty laugh, startling Regina. 

It was cold. 

Rivaling the things that have came out of her own mouth. 

“Seriously?” Emma asked, moving to climb over the rail of the chair and getting away from the woman. One uprighted, she turned to stare down at the woman. “No, but seriously? Mary Margaret loved me and was the only fucking family I had and she didn’t fucking know that Mother Superior was some kind of fucked up Arms Boss.” 

Emma turned to look over the balcony, trying to grasp hold of her angry and control it, but it was useless. 

Regina had stood up already when Emma turned around to look at her. 

She was fucking pissed. 

And Regina needed to understand that there were lines. 

“You know what, Regina, fuck you. You don’t even know her. And you fucking don’t know anything about me.” Emma had stepped forward, in Regina’s space, stunning the older woman. “Remember? I’m dead, your majesty.” 

Emma pressed against the woman, heat radiating as she gave the queen a sickly sweet smile, “And you know what? I would actually sleep if you gave me damn blanket.” 

Emma let out a growl, stepping back and turning away from the Queen. She didn’t look over her shoulder when she walked back into the bedroom and away from the woman making her see red. 

III

Emma was curled on the couch in the library. Her face was pressed into the back of the couch and an old quilt wrapped around her shoulders. 

This is how Regina found the blonde when she walked into the room. 

Regina tried to get work done, needing to get through the quarterly papers for one of the many business she managed, but she couldn’t get the image of Emma’s angered and hurt face out of her head. 

It was early and Emma should be awake. 

But she didn’t move when Regina walked into the room and took a seat behind her on the couch. 

Regina waited. 

Minutes ticked by as she watched the slow rise and fall of Emma’s back. 

She reached forward to lay her hand on Emma’s shoulder, pulling her around so that she could see her. 

Emma’s movements were slow as she turned, letting her legs go down to the floor and grasping the quilt tight around her. 

Regina frowned, seeing the wet path cascading down Emma’s cheeks. 

Regina’s heart clenched inside of her chest. 

She couldn’t feel. 

The queen refused to feel. 

She only came to make sure the air between them was okay. 

Nothing more. 

She refused to feel. 

It was weakness. 

Her hand slide up the smooth skin of Emma’s arm, causing Emma’s watery eyes to search and meet Regina’s in fear and anger and a deep, belly clenching sadness. 

It broke something in Regina. 

Like glass or ice shattering around Regina’s heart. 

The older woman moved closer. 

Emma stayed still. 

The hand came up, fingers caressed Emma’s neck before trailing across Emma’s moist cheeks. Regina wiped away a few tears, but unable to catch them all. 

Regina trailed her hand back down, sliding it to the back of Emma’s neck. She played with the small curls at the nape. 

The words came out gentle and rushed but Regina meant them all the same, “I’m sorry.” 

They were barely audible. 

It felt like acid in her mouth as she said them. 

Words that she couldn’t even remember the last time saying. 

Emma’s eyes widened at that. 

Feeling them seep in and warming her heart. 

The blonde softened. 

But didn’t offer a reply. 

She just looked, eyes shifting over Regina’s face. 

Regina scooted closer, pulling the blonde closer, into her lap. 

Emma allowed her. 

Cuddling into Regina’s arms, something that she spent many nights wishing for. 

Regina’s heart clenched as she pressed a hand into Emma’s neck and pulled her close so that their cheeks were pressed together. 

She was feeling too much. 

She was feeling too much of Emma’s unspoken pain and the roughness of Emma’s heart beat against her own. 

It scared her. 

This fact. 

Regina was starting to realize that she wasn’t heartless after all. 

III

Regina thought about how she cared too much as her fist collided with the rough jaw of the man tied to the chair. 

She watched blood splatter out of his mouth when she thought about the blonde who barely said words to her now. 

Her other fist quickly connected with his chest causing the man to gasp for air as she though about how Emma pulled away. 

She was reserved. 

Her reality settling in. 

Regina pushed her too far, Emma fell over, and now the blonde was realizing it all. 

Her knuckles hurt but she did it again, ramming her fist into the man’s jaw once more. 

People would kill to be in Emma’s spot - probably would try once they knew about the girl - but Regina understood better than most that being captive wasn’t romantic. 

But she wasn’t holding her captive. 

Right? 

Regina really shouldn’t care this fucking much. 

Shouldn’t care at all. 

And Regina was fighting tooth and nail. 

Regina pulled her fist back to her side, conscious not to get the man’s blood on her dress. She took a step back, eyeing the man as he lifted his head up. 

“Do you think it is wise to steal from me?” Regina growled as she nodded her head in Killian’s direction, taking pleasure when the irishman stepped forward and punched the man once more. 

The milky white man seemed pale, probably due to the loss of blood, but seemed to pale more when Killian pulled back his fist and collided it into his face. 

The man groaned. 

Choked. 

And Regina smirked at his pathetic mutterings of apologies. 

He was weak. 

Usually this was when the queen walked out. Her hands were already more dirty than she usually liked to get them. 

But she was angry and had something to proved. 

She was The Evil Queen, heartless.  

This man will help her prove that fact. 

She walked around the man in the center of the warehouse. There were mannequins lining the walls as a single light from above illuminated the man who was tied to a metal, rusted chair. 

Regina took note that his chest moved as if it were aching - she probably broke a few ribs in her beating. 

He also had a heart condition that she knew about. 

But they wouldn’t get to the point where that mattered. 

Regina chuckled. 

She was the daughter of the heartless Cora Mills. 

A fucking queen. 

So Regina reached into the front of her tailored high-waisted black slacks and grasped the handle of the gun before pulling it up and out of her pants, enjoying how it slid against the white, silk blouse. 

Cocking it, pressing the cold metal in-between his eyes, Regina met his scared eyes. 

She never backed down from a kill or looked away. 

“Fucked up choice, Alex,” Regina tisked, pushing the gun rougher. She growled, leaning forward, “No one fucks with the Queen.” 

Alex opened his mouth, shaking, begging. 

Regina gave a smirk, pouting her lips together, “Too late now.” 

The trigger was pulled and red painted the perfect snow white shirt. 

This power, taking this life, felt so fucking good. 

Just like mommy taught her. 

III

Emma was emotionless these past few weeks. 

Regina tried to do things that she believe would encourage the young woman back to her old self without any luck. 

Her apology that night didn’t work, only settled the girl into a restful sleep against her chest, which was something the blonde needed desperately. 

But being held versus letting the monsters eat her alive - well there really wasn’t a hesitance that night. 

But Emma didn’t see what Regina did. 

She didn’t truly understand the fact that Regina was a monster. 

It didn’t matter though. 

She was closed off to the world, protecting herself. 

And the more Regina pushed, attempted to get closer, the more Emma would pull away. 

She hid out in the library most days, refusing anything else. 

She finished her coursework quickly, quietly. 

Refused celebration and acknowledgment. 

Emma wondered if anyone cared that she was gone. 

Did August regret setting her up? 

She Mary Margaret think about her?

Worry about her?

Did she really not realize that she was gone? 

Emma wondered if she would ever get a chance at being happy. 

III

Regina started to feel the weight against her chest. 

Her heart. 

She didn’t really care about the man, nor that he was dead, but she hated the reason she killed him. 

Her father taught her one thing about the business, one that was supposed to protect her heart. 

Never kill without reason. 

Henry Mills was passionate in his ruling - ruthless towards only those who deserved it. 

Unlike her mother. 

But tonight, she needed to show herself that she was heartless. 

That she could press metal against his forehead and watch his life leave his eyes. 

She needed to prove that she could do it. 

That she was heartless. 

But she only proved that she had a heart. 

She felt the weight of the man’s death in her chest and she hated herself for it. 

Regina felt dirty and angry and possessed. 

Regina waltzed into her bedroom - now more like Emma’s - her fingers unbuttoning the bloodied blouse as she spotted Emma on the bed. 

It was late, nearing midnight, but she knew that sleep didn’t come to the blonde easily. 

“Hello dear,” Regina addressed the blonde. 

Emma’s back was against the headboard, a book resting in her hands, her head not raising to greet Regina. 

The queen sneered, feeling all the emotion bubble up and spill out of her throat. 

Regina threw the blouse on the floor, feeling her skin heating up and knew that there was blood on her face. 

She could care the fuck less. 

A point needed to be made to Emma and Regina needed her to understand. 

Regina needed her to understand who the fuck she was. 

“Emma,” her voice was loud, unforgiving, angry, and startled the blonde, causing the book to fall from her hands. 

Fear laced her eyes and Regina sneared at how much it fucking hurt her. 

There was something about the young girl that made Regina want her to see her for who she was and not The Evil Queen. 

It scared Regina how much she needed Emma to see her as something more. 

She needed Emma to feel this burning connection that was tearing Regina apart. 

“Come here, Emma,” Regina demanded, voice harsh, gesturing to the end of the bed were she went to kneel and reach under. Regina pulled out a black box with purple ribbon, something that had been resting under the best since the third day that Emma arrived. 

Regina sat it on top of the bed causing the blonde to immediately comply. She moved her body so that she was sitting across from Regina and in front of the box. 

A million things went through her mind as she glanced down at the box - fear of Regina, wondering who’s blood was on the Queen’s face, and what the hell was in the box. 

“No, come here,” Regina demanded, taking a step back to leave a space between herself and the bed. 

Emma furrowed her eyebrows but quickly nodded and climbed off the bed. Regina pushed her to face the box and quickly slid behind the blond, putting her hands on Emma’s lips. 

They haven’t been this close since the night Regina fucked Emma in the shower. 

Regina inhaled the blonde’s sent - its been too fucking long. 

“There you go,” Regina whispered, stepping closer to Emma. “You’re such a good girl, Emma.” 

Emma sucked in air, eyes closing for a moment. 

It would be hard to keep pushing Regina away if she continued this. 

Regina lifted a hand to move Emma’s hair away from the side of her head, leaning forward, close to her ear, “You are my good girl, aren’t you?” 

Emma opened her mouth to answer, but quickly paused at the confusion that she felt. 

Regina leaned in closer, mouth on the hollow of Emma’s ear. 

“Do you understand, Emma, that I own you?” Regina whispered, hands sliding across Emma’s hips to her stomach, resting at the waistband of her yoga pants. 

“Regina…” Emma said quickly, looking down at the box - hating the hope that was growing in her stomach. But she shook her head, protesting, speaking up to the queen, “Regina…"

"No, be a good girl and listen." Regina husked, trailing her tongue across the throbbing point in Emma's neck as she pressed her body against Emma's back, a hand slipping below the waist of Emma’s pants and fingers teasing over the top of Emma’s underwear. 

 

A moan escaped Emma’s lips, causing her to spread her legs ever so slight. 

 

Emma immediately nodded, tilting her head ever so slightly to let Regina continue teasing the sensitive flesh of her neck. Regina whispered, "You need to learn that your past is gone. All there is now, my sweet girl, is me…us…I’m your family now, Emma."

 

Emma sucked in a breath as Regina bit down hard against her neck, a groan escaping her lips as her knees buckled.

 

Her heart jumped and leaped and it was hard to question Regina when she made such a bold statement. 

 

"Open the box, Emma, be a good girl and learn your lesson."

 

Emma hesitated, hands hovering the black box with a purple ribbon, finger moving as if they were talking themselves into untying the knot that kept her separated from a lesson that Regina was so desperately wanting to teach.

 

Her movement was slow, hands falling away every once and a while when Regina pressed her fingers over her clit. 

 

But then Regina’s fingers were gone. 

 

Emma didn't realize she was scared until her body jumped a little when Regina put her hands over Emma's, guiding the shaking hands to the ribbon and pulled.

 

The ribbon fell to the sides of the box as Emma's heart fell to her feet, nearly stopping.

 

"Now the lid, my sweet, sweet girl." The words were purred into her ear and Emma couldn't disobey.

 

Emma started to feel the acceptance.

 

She started to realize that she wanted to be Regina's sweet girl - she was starting to find that she wanted it so very, very much.

 

Her hands lifted the lid.

 

Before immediately dropping it, the lip sliding off to the side.

 

A cry escaped her lips.

 

She tried to pull out of Regina's grasp - unable to break free.

 

Emotions overwhelmed her as she saw the collection of items filling the box.

 

Photos - faces barely recognized due to not seeing them in so long. Smiling faces of Mary Margaret, their adventures together, various photos of herself throughout the years. 

 

A rainbow of colors in the photos with a variety of faces - each telling a story of her life.

 

And then, Emma chocked.

 

A horrid sound, tears swelling up.

 

A blanket - perfectly cleaned and restored- folded neatly at the top with her name sewed into the material with blue thread.

 

Pieces of her old self, being presented to her in an open box.

 

Regina held her tighter than she once had.

 

A need for the younger girl becoming apparent.

 

Emma cried, tears and feelings of being overwhelmed.

 

But Regina kept tight.

 

Regina held her close.

 

"Your past is gone, Emma," Regina purred, clutching Emma. “Starting tonight, things are going to change between us, Emma. There is only me…only us…but my sweet, sweet girl - that doesn't mean that your past doesn't matter. It made you into this woman who I wish to know everything about, to make happy and to see the smile light up your face. You're mine, Emma, and you need to learn what exactly that means."

 

Regina may be a monster but she was a monster who could love.

 

And there was no one who could love more than the queen.


	6. Iron

**Iron**

 

**Chapter 6: Iron**

**Kingdom Come Series**

**unedited. you know the drill. please see previous chapters for notes.**

-

“I got you,” Regina whispered into her blonde hair, holding her tight against her body. Emma’s face was buried in her chest, her arms wrapped around her waist, and it’s moments like these that Regina sneers at herself. It’s hours late, hours after the blonde wrapped herself in that hideous blanket and buried her face into Regina’s skin, and the queen welcome it. It warmed her, made her feel more human instead of something less than, and she inhaled the blonde as if she was the answer to the disease overtaking her heart. 

Pathetic, really. She was quite pathetic, holding tight to this girl and thinking that she could be the electrical currant that could restart her heart, pathetic. 

But Regina held her close, Emma’s whimpering body slowly calming down and her nails digging into the flesh under Regina’s shirt, and Regina kissed her forehead with a tenderness that she only experienced as a little girl, before bed when her father would wish her good dreams and God’s safety before pressing a protective kiss on her forehead. 

“Shh,” Regina whispered. “It’s okay, Emma. I’m here.” 

-

It was at five, the sun still hiding underneath the horizon, when Emma woke from a bad dream again, Regina said fuck it with the softness and turned her body and pulled Emma on top of her. The girl stirred in her sleep as Regina nuzzled her nose in Emma’s neck before grinning against the warm flesh, lips spread and teeth barred, and then she nipped at Emma’s neck causing the blonde to jerk awake and rock her hips and there, right there, her eyes focusing on Regina’s. 

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Regina whispered against the girl, enjoying the way her chest rose and fell fast and panicked but her hips pressed against Regina’s abdomen. The queen’s hips rocked upwards toward Emma, allowing the blonde a better angle, as her hands moved to Emma’s hips. The blonde breathed heavily into Regina’s chest, moving to slide her cheek across it before she turned her head and looked up, meeting Regina’s eyes. Regina grinned, tired but alert and so fucking aroused, she licked her teeth as she whispered, “Want to know how to be my good girl?” 

Emma nodded her head. Her hips rocked, pants sliding across Regina’s pelvis greedily. It was a fucking tease, the barriers between them, but she was desperate and she kept rocking. “Please,” Emma begged, voice husky with sleep. 

Regina’s hand found blond curls as she threaded her fingers and fisted her hair, Emma’s mouth opening in a painful groan as Regina yanked her down. It was breath taking, the queen so hungry and demanding, and Emma ate it all up.

It was her mouth that Regina was looking for, the queen’s tongue sliding past her own lips to slide across Emma’s bottom lip before bitting down on it, causing it to plump and redden, and fuck this woman enjoyed using her teeth. 

There was a small part in Emma that wanted to pull away, to hesitate, to fear being touched and letting herself go and thinking over and over about how she didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve her, but there was a part so desperate to hear how she could be Regina’s good girl, how she could please the queen, that overwhelmed her and chased away all these fears and bad dreams. Regina felt Emma’s body let go and she grinned, teeth holding Emma’s bottom in her mouth, praising herself for taking this route to settle the girl. 

Regina let her lip go, pulling back to look into Emma’s eyes, fist tightening in her hair. Regina grinned mischievously, letting all the naughty little thoughts flow into her head as she let one slide past her lips, “Taste me.” 

Emma’s hips bucked uncontrollably, her mouth opening as a moan gasped out at the very thought. Her eyes turning into a sea storm and her eyebrows rose and looked at Regina. There was something about how her childhood blanket was wrapped around her own hips as they rocked against a queen who made her name from blood and power and, fuck, Emma wanted her so much. Wanted this so much. 

The young blonde moved to slide down Regina but was quickly stopped, Regina’s hand coming to her hips once more to keep her there. Her thumbs pressing into the sensitive spot above her pelvis bone and Emma felt her cunt flood with want and need and, for these moments, she didn’t fucking care if she died today as long as Regina kept doing this. 

Unsure of herself, Emma furrowed her eyebrows, “But I thought you wanted me to taste you?” 

A gruntal sound came from Regina’s chest, completely barbaric but primal and Emma couldn’t help but grin at that. Regina couldn’t help herself, she pushed forward to kiss Emma’s lips once more before pulling back and crinkle her nose at Emma. It was adorable and innocent and Emma knew that she was about to be told something undeniably filthy. 

Instead of saying words, Regina moved a hand off of Emma’s hips and up to the blonde’s mouth to trace over her bottom lip. The lip still red and swollen and bruised. Her fingers were gentle, tips sliding back and forth, their eyes meeting and for a moment they felt it. That connection and that whimper of hearts and the sun hasn’t even rose in the sky but everything was bright and it was them and it hurt and it felt comforting and it was everything. 

It was the connection becoming complete - letting each woman know that it was there and it couldn’t be denied and fucking hell, Regina slide two fingers into Emma’s mouth, the blonde’s tongue immediately licking the pads as her lips wrapped around and sucked. “Fuck,” Regina moaned, thinking of Emma’s mouth sucking on her clit and her labia and she closed her eyes for a small moment to picture those perfect lips wrapped around a silicone cock as it was strapped to her hips and she knew that her panties were completely soaked. 

Regina slide her fingers out of Emma’s mouth with a pop before grinning at the girl, her lips pressing forward as she instructed, “Watch.” 

Emma watched as Regina slide her fingers between them, sliding her hand through the waistband of her pants before her eyes widened, fingers coming in contact with her own clit. Emma held her breath, unable to let it out as she watched Regina’s hand move lower inside her pants. Regina moaned, fingers sliding through her own heat before dipping two fingers around her entrance. “I’m so fucking wet. Do you realize what you do to me, Emma? Do you realize that you are the only one in this entire world to make a queen this desperate? Lift up my pants, Emma.” 

Emma’s hands quickly moved to raise Regina’s waist band, allowing the queen to slide her fingers out of her entrance and then her pants without loosing a drop. Regina grinned as she brought her fingers up to Emma’s mouth. Emma’s hand immediately coming to Regina’s wrist to hold it steal for a moment. She bit her lip, noticing how even in the darkness, Regina’s fingers fucking glistened. The blonde took in the heady smell and felt her mouth water before she leaned forward and greedily took the two fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking, enjoying the tangy taste. 

Regina grinned, moving forward to place a kiss on Emma’s forehead and whispering, “There, there, what a good girl you are.” 

Regina chased away her nightmares but Emma caused the queen to beg and both women were doomed, really. 

-

She was tending to the garden that was Emma Swan. That’s what Regina whispered to herself when she disentangled herself from the blonde for the seventh morning in a row. She found herself back in her own bed each night holding the young girl to her chest as she slept peacefully. Some nights their bodies ground against the other, pajama’s between their bodies, but there wasn’t anymore tastes. Regina was never one to have good self control and it was getting harder and harder not to go farther and farther with the other woman. 

But a part of the queen wanted to continue to tease and to build up and up and up. She knew that it was worth it. 

Until then, little breaks in her resolve and tastes and teases where enough. 

She didn’t want to push Emma either. Emma was sensitive despite her rough edges. She walked on her tippy toes in the darkness and was cautious about many things and Regina was patient. 

She tended the garden that was Emma Swan with patience and kisses on the forehead and her hand sliding into the blonde’s as they rested in the library and for a moment, Regina wondered if there were flowers blooming in her own garden too. 

Emma smiled softly at her, touching her as she whispered like water falling on soft petals. “I’m happy here with you.” 

Regina kissed and kissed and kissed her forehead, peppering soft promises against the blonde, whispering, "I'm happy that you are here too, Emma."

-

There was a groove that Regina carved for her. It was small but perfect and Emma fit in it without hesitance. She started to warm up to the woman, opening herself up and smiling more and there was laughter. Emma wondered if Regina ever laughed before recently. She wondered if she allowed herself to sit back and breathe. 

With her father she did, Emma decided. They had a natural flow that caused Emma to smile and sit back and watch. Even then, Regina would gravitate to her. 

Emma was curious as to who was the sun and who was the planet that gravitated. 

Emma found her groove and she became in sync with Regina. Snarky and humorous and sensual and there was something filling up voids that neither women realized where there until now. 

Emma slide off the couch. She moved a hand to slide through her hair as she turned to smile softly at the queen who was looking over paperwork. Emma considered going back and laying her head back down in Regina’s lap but she in desperate need of a snack. “Smoothie?” 

Regina looked up over the glasses that was perched on her nose, smiling softly at Emma’s thoughtfulness. She shook her head, “No thanks.” 

It was soft and natural and for a moment Emma wasn’t a girl that Regina bought from a sketchy ass nun, but really, who even thought about those things. She certainly tried not to. 

Instead she smiled back at the queen before turning and making her way out of the library. She passed by Henry’s study, smiling softly at the man, before continuing into to the kitchen. 

“She’ll get rid of her soon, Robin,” a thick accent whispered, catching Emma’s attention and causing the blonde to pause. It was coming from Regina’s office. Killian, she believed. The irish man always making her feeling just a tiny bit uncomfortable. Emma pressed her back against the wall as she listened. “Possibly kill the little bitch.” 

“I thought you wanted her, my friend,” the response, a soft chuckle and teasing causing Emma to feel like her stomach was rising in the back of her throat. 

“And I can assure you that that blonde would enjoyed being on her back with me over her,” Killian replied and Emma could hear the grin in his voice. She put a hand over her mouth, feeling her hand come up and cover her mouth. He continued, laughing, “All the while, the Queen still wouldn’t want you.” 

Emma slipped away, uneasy and disturbed and feeling as if she was going to vomit. 

She quickly turned on her heel and walked back to the library. She slipped past Henry’s study and through the thick wooden door of library before finding her way back to the couch. 

“Are you okay, my darling?” Regina asked, lifting her gaze from the papers as Emma settled back down on the couch. She curled up, turing toward the back of the couch and laying her head back in Regina’s lap. Emma nuzzled her face into Regina’s stomach and nodded. She murmured softly, “Yes, my queen.” 

Completely okay. 

-

Regina felt it, Emma’s uneasiness. It settled in the pit of her stomach and made it feel as if there were needles curving under her belly button and it was a feeling that didn’t fit well with a queen. Her attention has been spread over the last few weeks - announcing Kathryn as a candidate in the upcoming election and dinner parties and making sure the different districts were running correctly - and she let Emma’s “okays” slip over her before pausing and listening to the blonde. 

Something was wrong, off. 

Regina walked into the room the flowing morning, her night spent taking care of the local Sex Ring and instating a new lead who would actually make sure her workers were treated fairly (the last fucker was now dead, receiving the same treatment he bestowed onto others). She leaned against the threshold for a moment watching. Emma was in the middle of the bed, blanket across her lap as her fingertips slide across the glossy image of a photo in her hand. 

“Good morning, my darling,” Regina said softly. 

Emma’s head quickly lifted, eyes wide and hand moving to her chest, stilling her heartbeat. “Fuck, you scared me!” 

Regina frowned, noticing the little things in the blonde’s behavior over the last few weeks. She’s been more jumpy, more uptight. Regina slowly made herself over to the bed, hands moving to scrunch up her skirt, hiking it over her thighs so she could climb onto the bed. Emma’s eyes immediately went to the exposed thighs as Regina settled down next to Emma. She gingerly moved the photos away from the blonde so that she could settle her head into Emma’s lap. 

Emma smiled softly down at her as her hands went to Regina’s hair. 

It was tender, this moment. They were tender. 

Regina’s fingers went to grab Emma’s other hand, stroking fingertips across the blonde’s palm, as her eyes found Emma’s. She whispered, honest, “I never want you to be afraid of me, Emma.” 

Her confession was quite, whispered, and it caused Emma to still her hand and tilt her head. Her heart slowed down and her eyes squinted, as if she was trying to find some dishonesty in Regina’s words. There was none but she kept searching, as if she was waiting for something. It confused Regina and worried her but she continued and entangled their fingers. Her voice was stronger, similar to the queen she was but still gentle, honest. “Too many people are afraid of me, but I couldn’t handle it if you were one of them, Emma. I want them to fear me, need them to fear me, but you? Emma, I don’t want you to be scared.” 

It’s become too easy, Emma thinks, to lean down and kiss Regina’s lips. She pulls back ever so slightly to breath out, “I’m not scared of you, Regina. Just promise to always come home to me, to have this, to be human too.” The words were out in a rush and sealed with another kiss and then another.

It was a sick feeling, that something bad was about to happen, as her lips slide across Regina’s and her tongue slide past her lips to taste the gloss on Regina’s. 

Emma could feel it in her stomach. 

-

“Am I your secret? A pet? A fucking payment?” Emma screamed across the table. The uneasiness ate away at her stomach and she was having nightmares about the conversation she overheard so many weeks ago and Regina spent most nights at campaign parties and out of the apartment and it was burrowing in Emma’s stomach. 

This. 

All of it. 

It was all eating away at her again, settling in and making her wish for dorm rooms and a seaside town on the coast and simplicity. All she ever wanted in life was simplicity and contentment and family and how the fuck could she ever have any of that? 

Kathryn flenched in her seat and Henry’s eyes widened as Emma placed her palms on the table, pushing herself up as she sucked in another breath. “I haven’t left this place in months, locked away, like something unworthy or less than and you know what, Regina, fuck you. Just fuck you.” 

Emma ran. She was good at that - turning and leaving everyone at the table with wide eyes and fast pace hearts and bile in their throats. It all started with talk about what the Queen and her future president would wear to the next party, so mundane, and Emma, well, the blonde broke. 

It was bound to happen. 

-

Regina sat on the edge of the bed. Back straight and lips pressed together and Emma learned something in that moment. She learned that a queen should never show weakness, emotionless and faceless was a lot scarier than allowing her emotions to be seen. 

Emma took note. 

-

They sat like that - across the room and staring at each other - for a listless amount of time (an hour? two? eight?). Emma knew the sun wasn’t up when she started talking, voice steady and cold and she was suddenly the child who learned to hide her disappointment. Maybe Regina should take a note from her too. “You told me once that Mary Margaret didn’t deserve me, but I am trying to understand how you feel that you do. Funny isn’t it that you believe that you do.” 

Regina flinched. 

Face broke. 

Eyebrows furrowing together. 

Emma reached out and Regina quickly lifted herself off the edge of the bed to come drop next to Emma and grasping her hand. 

It hit Emma in that moment. Regina didn’t believe that she deserved her either. 

-

“I’m scared of something happening to you if I took you out,” Regina whispered against Emma’s arm. Her lips ghosting over the soft flesh, waking the blonde from her light sleep. Emma blinked, turned her eyes down to stare at Regina. The queen repeated, “I care too deeply about you if something should happen.” 

Emma frowned, heart dropping as her fingers slide across Regina’s cheek. “And what if something happened while you have me locked away?” 

Regina’s eyes glazed over, a queen again as she sat up and clutched Emma’s hand in concern. “What do you mean? Has someone threatened you?” 

Emma could have said something, she really could have. Instead she shook her head, “No, no, my Queen, I’m just tired of being kept away. Can’t you see? I can’t breathe being locked away.” 

Regina was suddenly sixteen, hearing her own voice, begging. Her stomach dropped and her lungs deflated. She tried to suck in a breath before she nodded, “You’re right.” 

-

There were many things you could say about Mother Superior, but mostly Regina liked to call her a cunt. It fit a lot better than holy Mother, heavenly Mother, or anything else. It made Emma giggle, the way that Regina discussed the Holy Mother, as they sat in the back of the limo with their hands entangled together. 

“Then why are we even going?” Emma asked, curious. “You know, since she’s a sketchy bitch.” 

Regina turned, red lips stretching over white teeth. She lifted a finger up and tapped it on Emma’s nose. “What best to introduce you to the world than by taking over her party, my darling girl? I promise, it will be something you will never forget.” 

Emma’s heard stories about Mother Superior’s gala. It was all in the name of the children and their future - attended by those powerful, wealthy, and Emma heard from Mary Margaret that a few years ago the president even showed up. 

It was slightly disappointing, that it wasn’t about the kids. 

But was anything these days? 

-

The moon was high in the sky and the lightening in the room was gentile, allowing the moon and stars in the sky to shine through the glass room. It was whimsical and mysterious and everyone ate that shit up. 

They watched her, stared and studied her, as she walked past the faceless people in suits and jeweled gowns. Regina had her arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her close to her own body and digging her fingers into the light blues of the blonde’s dress. 

Emma Swan looked like a princess - dress clinging to her body and flowing out at the waist, sparkling ever so subtly, as if she was wearing ice. Her curls were loose and free, a silver tiara in her hair. Regina had too much fun, Emma was sure, picking out her dress. “Darling, it’s your coming out party,” Regina teased before catching the princess in her arms. 

All playfulness was gone and what was left was a possessive and regal Queen. Regina dripped of control and a frozen superiority as she walked among the many people who were attending the party. She let the corners curl up into a grin and she nodded at a few. It caused a cold chill to run along Emma’s back as she observed the way Regina behaved. 

It caused a rumble in her stomach when she observed the way everyone else behaved. They would bow, ever so slightly, at the them, as if Emma and Regina were royalty. 

“You remember Emma, don’t you?” Regina greeted Mother Superior and those surrounding her. The dark haired woman surprised, cocking an eyebrow, as Regina turned to the others to introduce the young girl. Regina tilted her head, turning to Emma and flashing her a bright smile - dangerous and hungry - before she turned to the others and emphasizing, “She’s my princess.” 

-

She was four drinks in and Regina was discussing politics as Emma leaned against the bar. 

“Looks like things worked out for you,” August slide into the spot next to her, his bow tie untied and hanging around his neck as he turned to look over the young girl. He smiled softly. Emma never realized just how sinister it looked. He leaned in, his shoulder pressing into her’s, he teased, “A princess, huh?” 

Emma frowned, crossing her arms and stepping away. Her head held high as she raised her eyebrows, “And you’re still a dog.” 

August laughs and shrugs, “Well, little Emma, we all must do things to survive. You know that better than anyone. You know, with being the Queen’s pet and all. We all know that she’ll throw you away soon enough.” 

Anger rose through her body, fusing with the anxiety and alcohol in her system, causing her to growl before she took a step forward. Emma challenged, a sadness turned anger towards the man who she used to consider her brother settling in her stomach, "Would you like to elaborate?"

“It’s not that you aren’t worthy, Emma, its just that you’re weak. She’s a Queen, Emma. She doesn’t need a little girl - a princess.” August says, leaning in and whispering into her ear. “You have always been a second choice really, thrown away and overlooked. How you made it this long, I’m honestly surprised. When Mother Superior said she needed a girl for payment to the Queen, I knew you would be perfect. Someone she could eat right up.” 

“Has she Emma?” Her name started to sound like bile on his tongue. Making her feel sick, her teeth grinding. “Has she ate you all up? Have you become her little slut?” 

Emma has always been compulsive, her fist connecting with his jaw. 

People turned, gasped, but her eyes were on his. August was always easy going and protective of her, she thought. He would defend her and step up but the moment he turned, hand to his jaw and other reaching into his jacket, Emma froze for a moment. She watched as his eyes hardened and he sneered, blood dripping from his nose. 

He looked evil, like the devil in her foster fathers stories. The devil that he would talk to her about before he did those bad things. And look, the Holy Mother herself kept the devil close to her. 

His gun was out and pointing toward her within a flash. He cocked it, the sound resounding around the entire room. He was too close, the barrel coming in contact with her forehead, pressing and pressing and it hurt. She remembered a few years ago when he held her, she was crying, and he protected her. And now, August had a gun pressed against her head and his finger on the trigger and then a shot resonated in her ears. 

-

She’s trying to make a point. There is blood on her hands, dripping through her fingers, and she is trying to make a point. It’s hollow and unlike her and is tainting a purity that she held by a string but there is nothing anymore except the metallic smell of blood and it’s warmth on her hands and the point has been made. It’s been made in the way that she stands tall, back straight, and her face completely void of emotion. She’s been watching, that much is evident. She’s been silently observing the queen, regal and rigid, that the entire room pauses. 

The blood is getting into her eyes and it’s burning but she doesn’t flinch or more. Her ice blue dress is dyed red across her chest, jewels sparkling through the liquid. She doesn’t even care. Instead, she glances down at him. The hole in the back of his head is wide and open and she wondered for a moment about how her second grade teacher told them that brains looked like scrambled eggs but right now all she saw was blood mixing with meaty flesh and it was all setting in her stomach heavy. 

The feeling was getting heavy, barring down on her shoulders, and she should move. She should pick up her feet and turn and walk out of the room but she couldn’t. She was still frozen, a statue of power and regality, and this was her coming out. 

Hello world, welcome Emma the Swan Princess. The property of your Queen. 

She was worthy of your love, dedication, and allegiance. 

Just look at her, white feathers dripping in blood. 

-

 

 

 

 


	7. the smoke before the fire.

**the smoke before the fire.**

**Chapter 7: the smoke before the fire.**

 

**Kingdom Come Series**

_unedited. you know the drill. please see previous chapters for notes._

 

 

-

 

She had her brother’s blood on her as they road in the limo back to the penthouse. It didn’t feel right for her to think of it as home - at least now - when Regina sat away from her, refusing to touch her, her face stone and dominating and she looked very much like a regal queen then a soft woman who held her in the middle of the night with her childhood blanket around her head. Regina was never meant for halos or to be a savior and it was Emma, most of the time, who sacrificed. 

 

So, why did having a man’s - who was like her brother - blood on her feel so fucking good. And why did it hurt so fucking much for have Regina pissed off at her? 

 

It was conflicting emotions and Emma was suddenly that kid who was afraid to be kicked out into the street, so she mimicked the queen. She sat up straight, hand folded in her lap, face hard, so fucking hard, and it was hard to believe that she would be nineteen very soon and not in her late twenties. 

 

She’s hard so much, in these last few hours. 

 

She could now be worthy of the Queen of all that was dark and dangerous and fucking deranged but it didn’t matter if she was worthy or not if the Queen couldn’t look at her. 

 

The sound of Regina’s gun still rang in Emma’s ears and August’s blood on her face was dried and it felt like a horrible face mask that was meant to make you look young and healthy. It was hardening on her skin - she didn’t feel either young or healthy but like a harbinger of death and sadness wherever she went. 

 

Maybe that was taking it a little too far, but she was really attached to Regina and the woman was far away and why was she so fucking mad at her? 

 

“You don’t realize it, do you, princess?” The coldness in Regina’s voice took Emma back. It caused the young girl to lean more into the seat and avoid Regina’s gaze on her. Emma looked at the floor and at her exposed toes. They had blood on them too and then she looked at Regina’s toes and slowly up Regina’s body and there wasn’t a drop. 

 

A bloodied swan, that’s what Emma was. 

 

Tainted. 

 

Once innocent, now tainted. 

 

She wonders if that is why Regina was made. 

 

Emma shakes her head, words rushed out as if they would make up for a dead man or the need to kiss a man, “He said things but I didn’t think he would do that.” Emma’s ashamed that her words are coming out so shaky and that she is kind of scared and, oh fuck, she had blood on her body. She starts to rub at her arms and then she starts to get agitated and her face furrows as she rubs a little harder. She’s starting to remember the feeling of a gun against her forehead and she wasn’t really scared, in those moments, she felt anger and she wanted him to die and, oh fucking goodness, she wanted August to die. 

 

August. 

 

He saved her many times and protected her others and family, she thought of family and she saw his face and now all she can see is the three inch in radius hole in the back of his scull and the meaty flesh and that was her brother who had the gun pressed against her head and then he died and she feels her chest contract and her breathing stop and that was fucking August. 

 

Once upon a time she had parents who left her by a tree in the forest. She didn’t know who they were or where they went but she had a brother (who was left by a tree years before her) who took care of her and loved her and then he sold her out and sold her out and then he pressed a gun against her forehead and if Emma Swan couldn’t trust her blood, who the hell could she trust. 

 

Emma slowly looks up at Regina, a silent sob crashing through her chest as she tries to wipe all the blood away, and she asks in too young of a voice, “What did I do?”  She’s panicking and the blood won’t go away and her brother is dead because she kicked him and he got angry and he was going to shoot her but Regina, Regina shot him, and now Emma had blood everywhere and Regina had blood nowhere. 

 

One Emma was so pure. White. Pure. The perfect sacrificial lamb. 

 

Now she was so fucking tainted - a blonde savior in red. 

 

“You started a fucking war, Emma, a war,” Regina replies, closing her eyes for a moment. She couldn’t look at Emma, she couldn’t look at her at all. 

 

-

 

She’s under the spray of their shower and Regina’s hair is wet but its Emma, this time, that needed to be scrubbed clean of blood. Emma’s shaking despite the water being hot and she’s frowning and she’s biting the inside of her lips so she doesn’t cry. She could, she could cry for dies, but she doesn’t. Instead she turns, faces the knobs and the wall, and lifts her face up to the spray and closes her eyes. 

 

She didn’t expect Regina to join her but she did. Emma didn’t expect Regina to clean her with the special lavender soap that Emma enjoyed, but she began to do that also. She was gentle but firm, scrubbing away the dried blood on her skin, and then she used her hands to gentle massage and caress the skin, and she was soft again, right there. So soft, as if Emma was her good girl rather than an idiot who just started a war between the Queen of an empire and underdogs who would do -anything- to rise above. 

 

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” Regina whispered against Emma’s heated skin. The blood all washed away and she was clean, once again. Just like Regina has been cleaned over and over again. Blood washes away, Emma will learn. Regina kissed Emma’s shoulder and then her neck and her body is pressed against the length of Emma’s back, she presses her center against Emma’s ass as she leans forward, setting her chin on Emma’s shoulder, as she whispers, “Can you forgive me, my love?” 

 

Emma pauses, sucking in a breath and water and coughing it back out. She puts her hands on the wall before her and tries to breath normally. Her breaths are uneven and its becoming so hot and she can feel the way Regina’s cunt spreads across her ass, how her clit is harden on her cheek, and Regina had said love. The woman, cold and heartless, apparently could open up because she said love. 

 

Monsters couldn’t love. 

 

Regina was no monster. 

 

Emma nodded, quickly and long, and didn’t stop until Regina kissed her neck against and snaked an arm around her torso and hand up to her left breast, her back fully pressed into the Queen’s front. They skin press tightly, they were connected. “I can forgive you, my queen.” 

 

She feels Regina’s lips curl into a gentile smile and this was what made Emma special. Regina wasn’t open to anyone but Emma. She wasn’t gentle and begging and she didn’t say love to anyone and Emma realized that not only was Regina capable of love but she loved hard and rough and intense and she fucking killed a man without second thought because he was going to kill someone she loved. 

 

This was about protection but, even more, this was about protecting something that she loved so much that she didn’t care that she would start a dangerous war and Emma Swan has never been loved in such a way. 

 

“Do you realize, now, what you mean to me, Emma?” Regina asks, softly and hesitantly as if she was scared - which she was. She really was because Regina didn’t give herself out like this and she was giving herself to Emma. 

 

“I do,” Emma whispers and she turns her head slightly, eyes shifting up and down to look at Regina, before she hooks a hand behind her to hold Regina’s head there and her lips are on Regina’s and they are kissing, gentle then hard then fast and then gentile again as if they were dancing with kisses and confessing through love with their lips and Emma suddenly feels light again and Regina’s and human. Emma feels human and she feels loved and she kisses harder, slips her tongue across Regina’s bottom lip asking for her to open up and Regina does, meeting Emma’s tongue with her own to caress. Its intimate and invasive and they were begging and begging for more. 

 

They end up on the bed, bodies dripping and wet and slippery as Regina slides her cunt across Emma’s torso, clit hitting Emma’s hard nipple, before she is on her hands and knees above the blonde and her cunt is in Emma’s face and Regina’s mouth is hovering over Emma’s clit and they weren’t meant for soft and gentle. No, Regina was greedy and so was Emma and Regina’s eyes widen as Emma’s hands quickly slide around Regina’s thighs, pulling her down, until her center was pressed firmly against Emma’s mouth and the young woman eagerly ate at it. 

 

The queen was brought down to moans and begs and pleading as she moved her mouth over Emma’s entrance and clit and back to her entrance and ground herself harder and harder against Emma’s face. Emma’s tongue curled around Regina’s clit and then down to Regina’s entrance and Emma’s hands went to encourage her to rock them. Her face was soaked with Regina’s juices and Emma’s own clit jumped and jumped as Regina moaned into her pussy. It was beautiful and messy and the sounds of the two women mixed in the darkened room. 

 

There was a war to be fought, but right now, the queen pleaded to come over and over and fucking over again. 

 

-

 

She wore a navy high waisted pant suit with a white blouse. Her lips tasted like Emma. She woke the girl up this morning, feasting on her pretty cunt again, trailing her tongue slowly through her folds to find her clit and then, made the blonde beg and beg and fucking beg to be able to comes. The young blonde gushes when she comes. It’s tasty. 

 

The taste on her lips also makes this meeting a whole lot easier, the queen was sure of it. 

 

They are on neutral ground and honestly, it shouldn’t be neutral ground because Regina owns the entire fucking world and the Blue Fairy needed to learn this. 

 

Regina curled a smile on her red lips as she walked into the conference room. She was surrounded by security and by lawyers and members of her council. Her head was held high as she spotted the woman, dressed in her dark navy habit, surrounded by other nuns and a few priests as well as previous students. It was beautiful really, how fucked up it all was. If only people realized what was going on in the world. 

 

“Mother,” Regina says with a tilt of her head and a teasing smile. “I’m so glad you called this meeting.” 

 

The woman raised her eyebrows at Regina and it took everything not to sneer at her. Instead, her smile turned sickly, dangerous as the nun began to talk. “I’m here to discuss the matter that you killed someone dear to me.” 

 

Regina laughed, cackled really, but it was humorless nonetheless, “Dear to you? That would imply that you had a heart to care, Mother Superior.” 

 

The dark haired woman smiles softly at her, condensing as she leaned forward, “Oh, but Regina, don’t forget that your mother already took that from me too.” 

 

Regina’s smile drained off her face at the mention of her mother. Heartless but strong and who would never show weakness in front of this woman. Quickly, Regina school her features into a hard look. She was in no mood to tease or taunt right now. She wanted her dead but there were others who wanted her alive. “What the hell do you want, Blue?” 

 

“There she is, ever the pleaser,” Blue answered in her sweet, fairy like voice. That was probably how she recruited the kids to do her will. She folded her hands on the table, rosary between her fingers as she leaned up, “I want Emma Swan back, Regina.” 

 

“Fuck no,” Regina sneered at her, face burning. She felt the heaviness of the gun in the back waist of her pants. She could easily kill this woman. She tried to breath, to think of Emma blissfully asleep at home, their home, and she sneered again. “You will never have Emma Swan.”

 

Blue laughed, tilted her head back and fucking laughed, before meeting Regina’s eyes. She taunted, “Looks like someone got attached. And what would your mother say about this little affair? Hmm? Oh, I know! Love is weakness!” 

 

Regina reached to grab her gun but Killian quickly stepped up to her side, shaking his head. He was right, there couldn’t be a war right now. They needed to plan, prepare. “Fuck you,” Regina hissed, turning to leave the room. 

 

“Remember that, Regina.” Blue called after her in a motherly tone, “Love is weakness!” 

 

-

 

Emma woke with a soft moan on her lips as she blinked her eyes against the sun and from sleep and she smile softly when she felt the smooth fingers running through her head. As she regained her vision, blurry without her glasses, she could make out Regina hovering above her with a halo of light around her head. Emma smiled again, arms circling around Regina’s bare body to bring her closer. She kisses her, softly, moaning into the queen’s mouth. “Mmm, where were you this morning? I woke up and you weren’t there.” 

 

Regina smile down at Emma, adjusting herself so that she was holding herself up mostly by her elbow and running her fingers through Emma’s wispy curls near her forehead and then down over her brows and her nose and nips. Emma was soft and lovely and her heart. Emma was her heart and she loved her and she couldn’t shut it down, lock it up, or walk away. Emma Swan was hers. 

 

“I love you, Emma Swan,” Regina whispers, smiling softly, and it was just them. For a moment, as Emma’s eyes widen and her smile grows bigger, Regina can believe that. They were just two people who met in downtown Boston and fell in love and now shared a life together and one day a family. Emma was probably a student at UMass or UofB or something and Regina was a lawyer and yeah, there were a few years between them but they loved each other and worked well. She could picture it so well, so uncomplicated. 

 

Emma leaned up, pressing her lips into Regina’s and pulling the older woman down on top of her fully. She was getting used to the feeling of Regina’s weight on top of her. It was comforting and she craved it and she craved Regina in many, many ways. The way the waves in the ocean craved the moon and the plants craved water and Regina was that part of her that was created and missing and now found and fucking hell. Emma cried against Regina’s lips as the queen’s fingers quickly found their way down her body and two slipping inside of her, “I love you, I love you.” 

 

And Regina smiled against Emma’s lips, loosing herself in the blonde and her fantasy and thing weren’t complicated. She curled her fingers inside Emma and enjoyed how tight she was, how her muscles clamped down and she started to rub her own clit against Emma’s thigh. Fast and slick, Regina slide back and forth, coating Emma’s thigh with her wet juices as she curled her fingers and angled her hand just right so that every time she pulled out and pushed in, her palm hit Emma’s clit. 

 

They were sweet and Emma was clutching at Regina and Regina worked her clit and her finger and they were kissing and they were teeth and moans and whispers of their love and things weren’t complicated. 

 

For a few moments they were just two women who loved each other. Regina was coming and Emma was coming and both of them were screaming, “I love you” over and over into each other’s mouths as if it were their last times. 

 

It was beautiful, the desperate confessions. 

 

Emma fell back into a peaceful sleep, curled around Regina until the woman had to slip away. She quickly pulled on a pair of black running shorts and a black tank top before moving to her office where her personal guard and members were gathered. Tongue sliding across teeth, Regina put her hands on her hips and began to start, “We are moving, right now, Blue demanded Emma, the one person she knew I wouldn’t part with. She wants a war and we will fucking give it to her.” 

 

The room nods in agreement but remains silent. No one dares defy their queen. 

 

“Killian. Robin. You are the only two I trust to protect her while I’m gone,” Regina said, voice strong with an edge of desperation. “I’ll be back in four hours.” 

 

They nodded in union as the others watched. Regina turned to Kathryn, “Go into the room and make sure she stays there until I get back, do you understand?”  

 

Kathryn quickly stands up and nods, moving to hug Regina, “Be careful, okay?”

 

Regina nods, smiling, “Of course. I have to be back before five, right? I’m making Emma’s favorite tonight - lasagne.” 

 

Kathryn chuckles, nods into Regina’s shoulder before pulling away, and leaves the room, heading to Emma and Regina’s room, locking the door behind her and going to settle on the couch near the window. She grabs the throw and wraps it around herself before settling in. Her eyes on Emma’s sleeping form with a smile on her face. Emma truly did make Regina happy. It was comforting. 


End file.
